Gimme Warmth
by writtingaboutsantana
Summary: Quinn Fabray and Santana Lopez have never gotten along. Surprise, right? When Quinn's house burns down and Santana's mom offers the Fabrays shelter, Quinn and Santana find out they have a lot more in common than they thought. badass!santana cheerio!quinn Quinntana endgame.
1. Chapter 1

Walking down the halls of Mckinley High is like walking into a different universe with every step. Almost literally. It's like the students took it upon themselves to assign a section of every hallway, every classroom, the quad, and the cafeteria. To a new student, it would seem foreign and confusing. If you were a freshman that was lucky enough to have a sibling who just so happened to have climbed the social ladder, even a step or two, then maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't get slushied. Often, at least.

Walking down the halls of Mckinley High as a Jock, or a Cheerio was a different story. There was no inch of the school that was off limits to you- if you decided that maybe the tree by the Geek's corner in the quad was a little more pleasing to look at, then that corner was no longer the Geek's. It was a new addition to the Jock's and Cheerios. There was hardly anyone on campus that would dare to speak against the J's and C's. Only The Black Jacks would.

How clever, right? Who do they think they are anyway, parading around in their black leather jackets, pants that are too tight, skirts that are too high to be considered 'innocent', and talking back to the J's and C's like their opinions were _actually_ relevant? God.

They stay out of the way most of the time - but they did take over under the bleachers. That caused a riot. We settled it though: they get under the bleachers, but we get what ever else we want. It wasn't that hard to bargain. They can have it - it's dirty under there anyway.

"Quinn, are you listening to me?" My friend asked. I rolled my eyes, then glanced at her. She was either talking about her cat, unicorns, or dolphins. I'll just take a guess.

"Of course, Brittany. You were telling me that dolphins were just gay sharks, and I was going to tell you that they are completely different species," I glanced at her, and saw that I was right. Her lips were pursed together as she tried to think of an argument, but I already knew what she would say. I was fully prepared to give in, because honestly, I don't care.

"Okay, but that's not true, because-"

"You know what? You're right," I smiled. It was a fast, fake little gesture, but it made her eyes light up. She loved being right.

"Told you so," she said. I nodded. "Okay, well, at lunch we're having a meeting in the-"

"I know, Britt. I told you that this morning. I'll come to your class so you don't forget," I stopped walking when we were in front of our class. When Sam opened the door for us, we gave him small smiles, then entered the room. Brittany took her normal seat, but mine was occupied.

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked the girl. She looked up at me with her cocky smile and disgustingly innocent dimples, and just shrugged.

"Sitting," she said nonchalantly.

"In _my _seat," I scoffed. She tapped her nails against the wood. They were painted black.

"Your name's not written on it. I didn't see 'Princess' carved into the desk," she sat up and straightened her leather jacket. "So, obviously, it's not your seat."

"Can you just get up?" I asked. The bell rang. When I get irritated, my ears tend to turn a little pink. So do my cheeks. I willed them not to, but the way Santana's smile grew told me that they did.

"What's the magic word?" She asked teasingly. I rolled my eyes, and she clicked her tongue. "I'd say I could sit here all day, but I couldn't lie to a princess. I'll just sit here until the class is over."

"Miss. Fabray, please take a seat," our teacher, Miss. Veron, said from the front of the classroom.

"I can't, she took it," I muttered.

"Let's not make a scene, blondie," Santana warned. But it was clear that she was enjoying this- she did it almost every time that she beat me to class. "Just say the word, and I'll be up and out of your throne."

"Please," I said, as calmly as I could.

"Oh, what kind of please? Is it my favorite?" The brunette leaned forward on the desk and rested her chin on her knuckles.

"_Pretty_ please," I hissed. Santana picked up her pen and her few lined pieces of paper, which seemed to be all she brought to school today, and slowly stood up until she was leveled with me. I could basically taste the cigarettes she'd puffed before coming to class. It was disgusting.

"Anything for you," she purred. I huffed and sat down. She stood there for a moment, then went to her seat.

I don't get why she does that. She only talks to me while we're in this room- is there something about United States History that makes her want to get under my skin? How did she manage to get into an honors class anyway?

* * *

When lunch time came, Brittany, Finn, Rachel (for some unknown reason), Kurt (also, unknown reason), and Sam all gathered in the auditorium. I'd be leading the meeting, so they were all waiting for me to talk.

"First off, two questions. Why are thing one and two here?" I asked.

"Well, Principal Figgins said-"

"Did he tell you to come here?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Then leave," I deadpanned.

"Please, just give us two minutes of your time," Rachel pleaded. She didn't come across as the type to plead, so after glancing at my people, I nodded.

"You have one minute."

"Thank you, I really-"

"You have fifty six seconds," I cut my eyes at her.

"Wow, okay," she breathed.

"I'll explain," her sidekick started, "Mr. Shue and Figgins talked about the Winter Formal, and they decided that it would be best to have the Glee Club perform. The school doesn't have enough money to-"

"I do. We can get professionals. Is there anything else?" I asked. Their presence was boring me. And honestly, looking at Berry kind of makes me want to punch her in the face.

"No. Nothing else," Rachel told me. "Just...our offer is on the table. I have several songs prepared-"

"That's enough," I said. I gave her a plastic smile, and tilted my head to the side a little. "Thanks." She took that as her cue to leave, Kurt following briskly behind her. When they were gone, Sam snorted. I arched an eyebrow, and that just made him laugh harder. Pretty soon, we were all laughing at this unspoken, hilarious joke. Glee kids perform at _my _Winter Formal? That has to be the funniest thing I've ever heard.

* * *

Brittany stood beside me as we lead our squad in stretches. The Cheerios was precious, our prized possession. In front of us stood the most fit and beautiful girls of Mckinley, excluding Brittany and myself, and they bow to our commands. But, they would kill us in an instant if it meant they could have a shot at being captain.

"Laps," Brittany shouted. She was always more vocal when it came to practice- she took fitness seriously. We all started to run around the field, and I almost didn't notice the Black Jackets come out from under the bleachers.

I ignored it when Santana and Noah stayed and watched from the seats. Even when I wasn't facing her anymore, I could feel her eyes burning holes in my back. I almost dared her to talk to me, to break her system of only teasing me and willingly smiling in US History, but then I remembered that I hate her. Why would I will her to talk to me?

"Killin' it in that skirt, Fabray!" Noah called out as we passed the bleachers. I rolled my eyes. Being the good, Catholic girl I am, I didn't flick him off. Instead, I exhaled grudgingly and pressed forward, making my legs run even faster. I'm pretty sure I heard Santana whistle.

* * *

Later, I sat on Brittany's bed and watched as she mindlessly wrote the answers on both of our math homework sheets. I learned a long time ago not to even bother checking- they were always right. When we were finished, she turned on the Tv and started to play with my hair.

"Q?" She said. I hummed in response. "Why don't the J's and C's, and the Black Jacks get along?"

I shrugged. "Black Jacks don't really matter."

"But they're still people."

I turned to look at her. "Why do you care?"

"I don't. It's just, we're really awesome. They're pretty awesome- you have to admit, there jackets are pretty cool. If we all got together, wouldn't it be, like, an awesome explosion?"

"No," I shook my head. "It would cause riots. People wouldn't know who held the power, they'd be confused. We are in charge, not the Black Jacks." She pursed her lips, then nodded. "Britt, it's just the way things work."

"I know," she said quietly.

* * *

My house was too big for just three people. It was just my mom, my younger brother Rhys, and I. My father passed away just after Rhys was born, about eight years ago. Alcohol poisoning. I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel of my car as I waited for the light to turn green. When it did, I had to pull over and out of the way for a fire truck that was speeding behind me. I watched it go my path, and could feel my heart beating out of my chest.

Pulling up in front of the my house- which was now a burning catastrophe- was like a nightmare. Neighbors watched from a distance. Police warned me to stay back, but backed off only slightly when I screamed, "That's _my _home!" Tears streamed down my cheeks. The officer seemed to read my mind, because he guided me towards my mother and Rhys, who were huddled together. I put my arms around Rhys, and kissed his blonde hair.

"I- Lucy, it was-"

"Sh," I whispered. "Mom, what happened?"

She sniffled a little bit, then looked at me. Her almost white eyes sent chills down my back. In the dark, you could hardly see the blue. Just like Rhys. "He found the match set."

"I thought you put them up high," I hissed, more upset with her than with my younger brother.

"Don't be mad, Quinnie," Rhys cried. "I climbed up to get them."

"You shouldn't have done than, Rhys," I told him. He nodded. He knew what he did was wrong. He knew an apology wouldn't get our house back. We watched as the firefighters tried to save what they could. We watched the walls that held our best- and worst- memories burned.

I sat on the curb with Rhys, watching as our mom talked to one of our neighbors. I couldn't recognise who ever it was, it was too dark. I took off my Cheerios jacket and helped Rhys work his arms through the sleeves. Then mom started to walk towards us, a solemn expression on her face.

"Maribel is allowing us to stay at her home, but only temporarily," she said.

"Nonsense, as long as you'd like, you are welcome in our home," the woman she called Maribel told me. I couldn't bring myself to talk. I knew I should thank her, I knew I was being incredibly rude. But I couldn't trust my voice right now.

"We are all very grateful," mom said to her.

"Let's get you into some warm clothes," Maribel smiled gently. "I'm sure my daughter will have something decent for you." I nodded. When my mom held out her hand for me to take, I took it. I picked Rhys up, then followed Maribel as she lead us to her home.

* * *

There house was even bigger than ours. If my vision wasn't blurred by a thin layer of tears, I'm sure the inside would have been even more extravagant.

"My daughter is about your age," Maribel said. She shifted her attention to Rhys, and touched his nose gently. "And my son is only a little older than you."

After refusing to share a room with mom (which Rhys and I both did), Maribel showed us to our rooms. "Santana will bring you a pair of pajamas," she yawned. I nodded. Wait, Santana? If there is a God up there, please don't let me be in the guestroom of Santana Lopez's house. When she closed the door, I let myself collapse on the bed.

"Oh God," I said out into the empty room. My voice cracked. I choked out a few more words that I'm not even sure of, probably curses to the universe. I squeezed the blanket and watched as I whimpered, watched my pale knuckles go white. Someone knocked on the door, just two simple knocks. Before I could ask for a minute, it was opened.

There in the doorway stood Santana Lopez. I almost didn't recognize her. She wore red plaid shorts and a simple grey muscle tank. Her hair was pulled up into a lazy pony tail. Without her jacket and dark makeup, she didn't look as menacing.

"Fabray?" She asked. I didn't reply. I just stood up and took the clothes from her, my hands shaking as I did. I turned my back to her and placed the folded clothes on the bed. "Do you, um," she cleared her throat. "Do you need anything else?" I shook my head. There was no doubt that if I said something, my voice would fail me. "Okay," she said. She clicked her tongue. "Alright. Good night," she turned around and walked out. Just before closing the door behind herself, she poked her head through the door. "See you in the morning."

* * *

I woke up in the middle of the night surprised that I'd been able to sleep. Then I saw that someone was getting into bed with me. I panicked until I heard Rhys whimper, then I settled, pulling him closer as my little spoon. I let myself fall asleep.

* * *

_**Author's Note- **So, I have a general idea on where I want this to go. But, if you guys don't think it's something you'd be interested in, I'll let it sit in Google Docs for a while longer. Let me know (:_


	2. Chapter 2

_**I really liked the response to the first chapter, thank you guys! **_

_**Just a little chapter to move it along, but the next one will be bigger. I promise (:**_

* * *

"How adorable," someone said. I yawned and sat up, careful not to move Rhys. I recognized that voice.

"Don't you knock?" I asked. My voice was raspy, partly from sleepiness, but mostly from crying.

She shrugged. "Not usually."

"Well, you should start," I told her. Again, she shrugged. I rolled my eyes. "Will you please shut the door?" I layed back down. I don't feel like dealing with the world today.

"Your mom wants to know if you're going to school. It's Friday," she leaned against the frame of the door. I groaned, so she chuckled.

"I really don't want to," I admitted.

"Not that I care or anything, but Verons' having a pop quiz today. You might not want to miss it," she crossed her arms. I turned to look at Rhys when he started stirring. "He's cute."

"Thanks," I yawned. She smirked.

"I said he's cute. Not you. Breakfast is ready, come down soon," and with that, she was gone. The door closed behind her.

"Quinnie," Rhys yawned. I immediately wrapped my arms around him. "I'm so sorry, Quinnie."

"Sh, it's okay," I assured him. I lied to him. This wasn't okay. Not even a little bit. The two of us just layed for a little, then his stomach growled. "Hungry?" I giggled. He blushed a little, and nodded.

"Where did you get those clothes from?" He asked me once we were standing. I'm not surprised he noticed, normally I wear nightgowns. Now, I wore a black t-shirt that looked like it was cut so that it would barely go past my hips. If I raised my arms, my belly button would show. The gray sweats were a little too big, so I rolled the waist band.

"Santana let me wear them," I said as he linked our fingers.

"They look nice on you," he looked up at me and smiled. I laughed and brushed his hair out of his eyes.

"I think it's time for a haircut."

He shook his head, "No, I want it to be long like your's."

* * *

We walked down the hallway, admiring the pattern on the painted walls. There were pictures of the Lopez's, but none with a man. Unless you count a small boy, who couldn't be much older than Rhys. We wandered through the halls, turning at random points.

"Quinnie, where are we going?" He giggled. I shrugged.

"The kitchen, if we ever find it."

"Are you lost, Miss. Fabray?" A woman asked. I shook my head, but Rhys nodded. "Are you trying to find the kitchen?"

"Yes," I cleared my throat.

"Will you allow me to lead the way?" She smiled. My ears grew warmer, along with my cheeks. I nodded, and followed her as she walked away. We ended up going down a beautiful staircase. "Here we are," she said. Soon, I was approaching Maribel, my mother, a small boy, and a much more recognizable Santana. She wore a black beanie, a blue leather jacket, and black lipstick.

"Good morning, sweetie," my mom smiled weakly. Obviously, she thought this was just a dream she would wake up from any minute now. I don't blame her.

"Morning, mamma," I said. I kissed her cheek gently, then let Rhys do the same. "Good morning, Miss. Lopez," I said to Maribel.

"Quinn, mija, you're going to be staying for a while. You may call me Maribel," she smiled. I nodded. "Mijo, introduce yourself," she nudged the little boy. He had a Mohawk. It wasn't gelled up, it rested on his forehead.

"I'm Leonardo," he smiled cheekily. He has Santana's smile.

"Quinn," I told him.

"Nice to meet you, Quinn."

"Likewise," I grinned. It was a small smile, but probably the first real one since yesterday.

Santana placed a plate of french toast in front of me, but she didn't look at me. "I'm out. Bye mami," she pecked her mom's cheek, then ran her fingers through her brother's hair, "Leo, I'll see you tonight." She left without a word to me. Not that I mind. I ate my food in silence.

* * *

"Why are you so late?" Brittany asked me. I shrugged. The news about the fire has spread through the school, most people were apologizing to me. Like they did it, not my eight year old brother. "Well, are we going to cancel that extra practice today?"

"Why would we?"

She shifted uncomfortably, and pushed the salad around her bowl. "I thought maybe you didn't want to deal with it today."

"I always work out to get my mind off of things," I reminded her. She nodded.

"Right."

The Black Jacks walked by our table, staring vacantly forward. Not at us. Santana glanced at me, but looked away just as quickly. "Since when do they eat in here?" I asked. Sam stared at them with a clenched jaw. Blaine rested his hand on the blonde's shoulder.

"They don't," Blaine said. Sam nodded, so Blaine moved his hand. "At least, they _haven't_. Not until today." We watched as they picked a table near the back of the cafeteria.

"As long as they don't try to take over this table, I don't mind," Sam breathed. I nodded.

"I guess that's fine." I just don't want to confront them. At least, not Santana. I wonder if she's told them yet.

* * *

Brittany walked beside me to Cheerios practice, per usual. She was talking about the new Irish boy, "He's an _actual_ leprechaun," she says to me. I arch an eyebrow, but before I can ask her to elaborate, I'm interrupted by an awfully familiar voice calling me.

"Fabray," someone said from behind us. Brittany and I turned on our heels and faced Santana. "I need to talk to you."

"What do you want? I have practice." She glanced at Brittany, then back at me.

"I just need a minute," she said. "Then you can go."

I sighed. Whatever she has to say, it must be about our current situation. That can't be said in front of Brittany. Sweet as she may be, she can't hold a secret. "Okay. Britt, I'll be right back." I walked away with Santana before she could reply.

"Alright, blondie. My mom told me it was rude of me not to offer you a ride to school. So, if you ever need a ride, you can ask me. Alright?"

"I have a car," I huffed. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm not stupid. Geez, I'm just being-"

"Nice?" I crossed my arms. "What's happening right now doesn't change anything. I still don't like you, you still don't like me."

"Whatever."

"Whatever," I cut my eyes at her. "Why don't you just go under the bleachers and perv on the Cheerios with the rest of your group?"

"That's not what we do under there," she pointed. She was so nonchalant about everything. The way she dusted my insults off of her shoulder like they were nothing really irritated me. "But maybe I'll take that suggestion."

* * *

_review? _


	3. Chapter 3

I don't think I remember the last decent dream I've had. My night terrors have started back up again - which completely threw me off the first time. I haven't had them since Russel was alive, but now all I can think about is that fire. I wake up in cold sweats, panting for air, my skin eerily warm as if the fire left a small gift for me. To remind me that this isn't one big dream.

Only once, when the flames felt too real to be false, I screamed. It was brief, but loud. I couldn't find Rhys in the dream, no matter where I looked - but I couldn't leave him. When I was searching through the burning house, I remember thinking '_Those damn matches… he keeps on finding the matches..._' And then I could feel it. And smell it. All this time, I thought you weren't supposed to be able to feel pain in a dream.

Someone knocked on my door, two quick ones. This time, the person waited for a response. I rubbed my eyes a little, then mumbled, "Come in," expecting Rhys to be waiting behind the door. Instead, Santana stood with a confused expression.

"You okay?" She rasped, "I heard a yell."

"I'm fine," I snapped. I expected her to bite back, but she just nodded and yawned.

"Ok, well, good night-"

"Wait," I said softly. "Will you st… come with me to get some water?" I wanted to ask her to stay. I need someone right now, and I only seem to sleep peacefully when Rhys is here. There's no way I'm going to selfishly wake him up. "I just, I don't want to go alone."

"Sure," she said sleepily. She waited for me, then we both walked in silence to the kitchen.

"Thank you," I said to her while I poured some water from the pitcher into my glass.

"No problem." We sat quietly, both of us avoiding eye contact like the plague. "So," she started after a few seconds, "does it happen often?"

I shrugged, "Recently," I admitted.

"Is it about the fire?" She asked me. I nodded. "Will your father help you guys find a place?"

"He died," I mumbled.

"Sorry…"

"Don't be," I said firmly. "He had it coming."

"You shouldn't say that," she said wearily. I stared at her questioningly, but she provided no explanation. "We should go to bed," she said instead. I nodded slowly. Surprisingly, she walked me to my room instead of going straight to her's.

"Good night," I said to her. She pursed her lips like she wanted to say something more, but I watched her shoulders deflate as she gave up.

"Night."

* * *

Eating dinner together has become a routine. Rhys and I aren't used to this - usually momma eats by herself in her bedroom and the two of us eat at the table. This is so...unusual. It's almost scary, how natural it feels to sit around this dinner table with them. Maribel, Santana, and Leo.

"How was school, girls?" Maribel asks us. I smile at her and shrug.

"Nothing out of the ordinary, just planning for the school dance," I tell her. She eyes Santana with an arched eyebrow.

"You haven't told me about a dance." She says to her daughter. Surprise, surprise.

"You never asked," Santana mumbled back. There's another thing. Ever since I moved in, Santana has been different. I can still feel her looking at me during History, but she doesn't say anything. She doesn't even kick my chair. Is it odd that my day feels significantly different without her pestering me?

"Do you have a date?" Maribel asked, shifting the conversation back to me. I shook my head.

"Soon though," I told her. I've heard that Sam was planning on asking me out. I don't know if I'll say yes or not, but time will tell. I looked up from my plate, and saw brown eyes staring right back at me. Santana pursed her lips and lowered her gaze. I threw a glance towards my mother, and silently hoped that house hunting was going along smoothly.

* * *

Two weeks. It's been two weeks of living under the same roof with Santana Lopez. No one has found out, at least not to my knowledge. Now, it's Saturday morning and I'm sitting beside Rhys as we eat Pancakes that Maribel made for us before she and momma went grocery shopping.

Santana walked into the kitchen and pulled a glass down from the cabinet, then she pours herself a glass of tap water. She's only wearing a sports bra and black shorts. I've learned that she likes to get up before sunrise to go jogging. She halfheartedly offered for me to join her, but I denied it, of course.

"Morning, San," Rhys smiled. She wiggled her fingers at him before downing her glass.

"Momma says we're going to church tomorrow. Will you join us?" He asks her so innocently. She shook her head.

"Not really my thing, kiddo," she ran her fingers through his hair, which was getting longer every day.

"We always go out to eat afterwards! Plus, I asked Leo, and he says that he'll go," Rhys insisted. I don't doubt that. Leonardo was just like his sister- he didn't care about much. He was only ten, but very mature for his age. He could probably pass for a few years older.

"Where do you go out?" Santana smiled teasingly. I could tell she'd already made up her mind about it, but decided to humor Rhys. How cruel.

"Anywhere! It's different every time. Come on, please, Sanny?" He pleaded. Santana shrugged.

"Couldn't be that bad."

"What?" I asked, I could hardly keep my jaw from dropping.

"I said-"

"Yeah, I heard you," I waved her off.

"Well, good morning to you too, Princess," she rolled her eyes. When she moved from behind the counter, I eyed her. She was nicely sculpted. Her six pack managed to be feminine, her arms were skinny but not lanky. She looks like someone who worked out daily, but not excessively. "You know, your leering is pretty obvious," she commented.

"I wasn't," I lied. My ears feel warm.

"And your blushing isn't really helping your case," she pointed.

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes. "Think what you want."

"I will," she shrugged. She balled her fist and playfully nudged Rhys' chin with the click of her tongue. "Sleep well?" She asked me, knocking me off guard for a few seconds.

"Um, yes. Thank you," I said softly. She nodded, then left, leaving me to scrunch my eyebrows in confusion. Since when did Santana Lopez _actually_ care?

* * *

Sitting next to Santana in Church felt like a sin. Her uncertainty radiated off of her, hitting me and all near enough to feel it- she was sweating like a sinner in Church. How ironic. I watched her from the side of my eye, studying the way she never kept her gaze on one spot. She looked at the Preacher for a few seconds, then the stain-glass windows.

Then me.

The Pastor- Pastor Davis- was telling us about skeletons in our closets. About how we had to let them go, we have to let God take care of them. He even had a plastic skeleton, he held it over his back as he spoke. Santana was still looking at me.

"When's this over?" She asked in a whisper. I shook my head- that was disrespectful. She inhaled through her nose, then out of her mouth. Then she turned her attention back to Pastor Davis.

She scoffed under her breath when he said that a God loving man would help guide his woman, that he would throw out all of her skeletons in the closet. She leaned closer to me. "Is he a bigot?" She asked.

Again, I shook my head, "Of course not." She shrugged, then went back to squirming in her seat. I noticed her chest was rising and falling quickly, but I couldn't bring myself to ask why. A few minutes later, she stood up and walked away, muttering an '_excuse me_' to the people she passed in the aisle.

When it was over, about two hours later, Santana was still no where to be found. Mom told me to fetch her, to tell her that we were going to Denny's. I looked around the now empty Church, then walked up on the stage. It could almost look like a concert. My Church was huge- far bigger than your average neighborhood Christian Center. I roamed through the back, then walked through a dim hallway that had small confession stands. I heard Pastor Davis's voice, and stopped walking. Was I supposed to be here? I certainly shouldn't be listening- that's rude. I almost walked away. Almost.

"Father forgive me, I have sinned - that's what I'm supposed to say, right?" A voice that sounded a little too much like Santana's made my knees buckle. I couldn't leave if I wanted to. "I see that on Tv. People come in here, say all the shit - stuff, excuse me. They say the _stuff_ that they did wrong, and then they are forgiven?"

"Almost," Pastor Davis replied. I couldn't see him, but I could picture him smiling that Colgate smile that he flashes everytime he gets to explain something holy. "This is you admitting and accepting what you've done wrong, and leaving our heavenly Father to take care of it."

"What are you, the messenger?" Santana chuckled dryly. Leave it to her to try to insult a Pastor, right to his face. Or, his voice I suppose. She can't see him.

"You could call me that."

"Alright. Well, _messenger_, what if I haven't accepted what I've done as a sin? Or what I'm doing."

I swallowed. Did she really go to confessions just to brag about how bad she is? How _low_.

"Care to explain?" Pastor asked curiously.

"For nearly all of my life, I was told that I was a sinner. By my father. Not like, Father _God_, by my Dad," Santana sighed. Her dad. I've never met him, nor have I seen a single picture. Is it really my place to find out why? "I told him...I told him that I loved girls the way I was supposed to love boys. He threw a fit."

"Understandable."

"For him to hit his daughter?" Santana bit. Silence. I held my breath until she started talking again. "He told me he'd fix me. That he'd set me up with a God fearing man, and I'd be normal. I went on so many dates trying to fix myself, but it never worked. He wasn't satisfied with me just pretending. No, my father, the _Pastor_, refused to be satisfied by me _pretending _to be in love with a boy. A _stupid_ _boy_."

"Excuse me, but-"

"Why? Why did he do that to me? Why do I have to ask for forgiveness, why isn't he sitting here? I just want it to be how it used to be. I _just_ want my dad back."

"And what is getting in the way of that?" Pastor asked. I rolled my eyes, as if her homosexuality wasn't obviously the answer.

"A girl, obviously. She lives with me now, and it's torture. Why can't I just be _normal_?" Her voice shook.

"There are many things in the Bible that are considered sins, young lady. I live by the book, but even I can admit that it's outdated. I'd be lying if I told you that I didn't eat pork for dinner last tuesday. But, if you truly believe this, I know what can help you."

Santana paused. I held my breath. "What would that be?" She asked finally. I heard a drawer open, then close. I took a step behind the wall when Pastor Davis's door started to open. He left a few papers on the floor in front of Santana's.

"Consider," he said, "calling the number on these pamphlets."

* * *

I waited for Santana in one of the back seats of the Church. When I saw Pastor Davis coming out from the back hall, I ducked down. He didn't see me. A few seconds later, I saw Santana. Her skin was pale, and she was stuffing papers into her pocket.

"Hey!" I called out. "Our moms want us to meet them at Denny's. We took too long."

"O-okay," she answered. I stood up and waited for her, then we walked out of the Church together. I didn't ask her why her eyes looked red. I already knew.

She drove here with Leonardo, but was leaving with me. I'm sure she didn't appreciate the trade off. Maybe she did - she said a girl who lived with her was blocking her from having her dad back. I didn't do anything, I don't even know her dad. Anyone who tells me that Santana Lopez has a thing for me is on Opium. She unlocked the passenger seat for me, then buckled her seat belt.

"Are you getting in, or are you walking?" She asked me. Normally, it would sound harsh. Venomous even. But not now, it just sounded weak. I nodded and ducked into her car. I didn't speak, I just got in. Then, the unexpected happened. "So.. how is planning for the dance going?" I had to double check to see if she was actually talking to me. It was civil, like a normal person would ask.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked hesitantly.

She shrugged. "Nothing."

"Well, it's fine. Thanks?"

"I didn't give you anything to thank me for."

I eyed her uneasily, but she kept her eyes trained on the road. "What's up with you?"

"I can't ask you a question?"

"I don't get why you're pretending to care, you don't even go to dances."

Again, she shrugged. That was getting on my last damn nerve.

"Maybe I'll go to the Winter Formal. Has anyone asked you yet?" She put her blinker on and stopped briefly at a stop sign. The clicking stayed in my head even after she turned it off.

"A few people have," I told her. She nodded.

"I figured."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked. She chuckled.

"It means, you're head Cheerio, so dozens of people are bound to ask you. Calm down."

"I'm calm," I lied. "Has anyone asked you?" She hummed in response, with a faint nod. "Are you going with one of them?"

"Probably not."

"Why?"

She glanced at me with a small smile. "Look at who has all the questions now."

We both got out of her car, but I noticed her toss a few things to the back. She tried to do it discreetly, so I acted like I didn't notice. "Hey," I said when we were a few steps away, "I think my phone slipped out."

"We'll go back-"

"No, just, um, I'll go back and you can go let our moms know we're here. You know, to stop their worrying," I bit my lip. Slowly, she nodded and reached into her purse to dig for her keys. She handed them to me. "I'll be in there in a second."

Without a word, she turned on her heel and walked inside. I waited until she was a safe distance away to check the backseat for those papers - and there they are. Three pamphlets, each of them similar to each other. One read '_Camp River Love_', another was '_Blessings May Be_,' and the third, '_Golden Child_.' All three of them were for Ex-Gay therapy.

* * *

So many things have happened so far that I haven't expected to happen. For instance, my house burned to the ground. Then, I moved in with Santana's family. Then I went to Church with Santana's family. And now, I'm sitting in Denny's.

With Santana's family.

When I came in, the waiter was taking away their menus. Santana sat opposite of me, but kept her eyes trained on her menu. We both requested water. She changed her mind and asked for orange juice. Her mom eyed her warily when she told her, "I was in confessions." Santana rolled her eyes. "I was kidding," she scoffed. "I couldn't find the bathroom." She lied, but it seemed to soothe her mom's nerves. Something tells me that felt a little more normal for her.

"Quinnie, you couldn't have told where the restroom was?" Mom asked me.

"I, um, couldn't find her," I answered. At least it was almost honest. "I don't know what to get. Rhys, what did you pick?" He smiled brightly.

"I picked the Funny Face Pancakes! You should get them too!" He pushed his hair out of his eyes, and I giggled. He wore it in a ponytail now. It was just long enough, about three inches stuck out from the elastic. I made a mental note to pick up some headbands for him, he seems to be getting aggravated with the shorter lengths getting in his eyes. Heaven knows he won't allow anyone to cut it.

"I think I'll do that," I replied as I closed my menu. Santana looked up at me with an arched eyebrow.

"Quinnie, those are for _children_," mom chided. I refrained from rolling my eyes.

"Mom, I'm getting the Funny Face Pancakes."

"I think I'll get that too," Santana added and she sat her menu down. Her mom looked at her questioningly, but chose not to say anything. The waiter smiled brightly when we told him what we wanted.

When our food came, Rhys was the happiest kid on the planet. Leonardo looked pretty satisfied too, he put a mustache on his pancake first. It turned into a competition. The four of us were trying to see who could make the best pancake face using the whip cream, circle-chopped strawberries, and blue berries.

"Mine is named Jacques. He's from France, see, look at his mustache," Leonardo tilted up his plate enough for all of us to see. His looked professional. We decided that his was the best. Santana finished her pancake first, then took some from my plate.

"Hey!" I picked the last strawberry from her plate, and she gasped. "Serves you right."

She shook her head with a small, soft smile on her lips. She didn't look away from me for a few seconds, but when she did, her smile stayed. There is so much more to Santana than I thought - but I'm not sure if it's my place to find out. But those pamphlets in her car don't really leave me a choice.

* * *

**_a/n- The response to this makes me very happy, I'm glad that you guys are enjoying this story!_**

**_and can I just say that Stay With Me by HereandNow27 is magic and if you're not already reading it, you're missing out. _**

**_I just want to say that I do not mean to disrespect anyone's _****_religion. This is something that I have experienced, and I hope that the way I write doesn't offend anyone, and if it does, I sincerely apologize. The Pastor is based off of the one that was in the church I used to go to, along with the church building itself (which was huge). When I say something I have experienced, I don't mean Santana's dad. I mean the whole religion mixing up with the way I feel when it comes to people I love. _**

**_Anyway! I'll try to update soon (:_**


	4. Chapter 4

Tomorrow, I have school. I know I need to sleep- I have a class at eight - but I can't get Santana's confession out of my head. Santana likes me. She told Pastor Davis that it's a girl who lives with her - I'm a girl who lives with her. Why would she do that to herself? She's nice and everything...well, sometimes. Every once in a while. Very, _very _rarely.

I keep on switching from thinking about Santana to thinking about the fire. The fire is the only reason I know all of these things about her, the fire is the reason she likes me, the fire is the reason everything is so messed up.

Just thinking about this is giving me a headache. I tossed the blanket off, then started the somewhat confusing path to the kitchen. "Oh," I jumped when I saw the light of the refrigerator. It's nearly 2 am, who else is awake? I sighed out a laugh when I saw Leonardo's sleepy smile looking up at me.

"Want some cookies?" He asked. I shook my head gently.

"What are you doing up?" I yawned as I started to search through the cabinets for some aspirin.

"San and I meet down here sometimes for a midnight snack," he said nonchalantly. He spilled a little of the milk on the counter, and didn't even blink before he wiped it up with the sleeve of his pajama shirt. At the mention of Santana, I quickly got down a glass. After downing two ibuprofens with tap water, I spun on my heel and -

"Hey bud," Santana smiled. "And Quinn?"

"I was just going to bed," I shook my head.

"Come on," Leo cut me off. He bent down and dragged the step stool to the pantry, then climbed up and grabbed the jar of cookies, "They're the best. Peanut butter chocolate chip."

"I wouldn't want to impose-"

"You live here," he deadpanned. I swear, this kid is going places some day. "And I know Rhys is allergic to Peanuts, so you haven't had them in a while."

"If she doesn't want a cookie, she doesn't have to." Santana said quietly.

"I'd like one, actually. I kind of miss the taste," I shrugged. Santana didn't look at me. Leonardo pushed the jar towards me.

"He joined us a few nights ago," he said through a mouth full of cookie. "Rhys."

"Leo.." Santana warned.

"What?" He looked right at her.

She glanced at me, but as soon as we made eye contact, she dropped it. "Never mind."

"He had a cookie," Leonardo continued.

"A peanut butter one?" I gasped. Rhys's throat closes up and he gets a gnarly rash- it's terrible to see.

"Yeah. He was sitting there," he pointed at an empty stool, "then all of a sudden he runs back to his room, grabs a little safety kit, then comes back. He ate the whole cookie in two bites, then he stabbed his arm with an epipen," Leonardo smiled proudly. "You know what he said after that?"

"I'm sure you'll say it," Santana mumbled. He ignored her.

"He said, '_So worth it!_'" He smiled proudly.

"That was dangerous," I frowned. "Do you know what could have happened?"

"I do," Leonardo shrugged. "I didn't _plan_ on him doing it. I would have asked if mom could get some chocolate chip cookies if I'd known."

"Why would you let him do it?" I asked Santana.

"Nothing bad happened. He can make his own decisions," Leonardo answered for her. "He was prepared."

"Are you ignoring me?" I asked Santana. She just shook her head. "Good night," I scoffed.

"Night!" Leonardo called after me.

That night, I dreamt about the fire again. Only this time, I didn't feel it. It was actually sort of peaceful. It might have been because this time, Santana was there with her signature smirk, as if she was silently telling the fire that it couldn't hurt her. That it couldn't hurt either of us.

* * *

The next morning, I wasn't surprised to see that Santana already left by the time I was ready to eat breakfast. The other two Lopez's were just about ready to go.

"Momma, can I ride with Leo to school today?" Rhys asked. Without looking up from her new laptop, she nodded. She smiled when he thanked her and kissed her cheek, then mumbled '_goodbye, my love_' when he had one foot out of the door.

"So," I said as I pushed my eggs around my plate, "any luck finding a house?"

"Hm?"

"A house," I repeated.

"Oh, that. Well, no luck at the moment-"

"Momma, it's been almost three weeks. How long does it take to-"

"Lucy, this is none of your _concern_," she kept her eyes trained on the computer screen.

"Um, it is, actually. When my brother and I are basically homeless, it is my _concern_." I crossed my arms.

"I will take care of it," she kept typing.

"Mom, what's wrong?" I asked carefully. She looked flushed.

"Apparently, your _father_ left us a few debts to pay. The bank froze my account."

* * *

Rhys looks different. His hair is longer than it's ever been, and he wears it all pulled back in a lazy pony tail. It trails just past his shoulders. Now, he's playing some game with Leo and their friend called Crosby. Crosby's hair is curly and unruly, yet it looks somewhat tamed. Just enough to emphasize his boyish charm. He talks like Leo, with subconscious sarcasm and dry humor. They don't yell when they play their video game, but they mumble instructions to one another. Mostly, they just go with it. Sometimes, Leo chuckles when his character falls dead to the ground, an amused smile plays on his lips. He congratulates the enemy, then goes back at them twice as hard.

"No plans?" Santana asked as she rested her elbows on the back of the couch. I shook my head. She's actually talking to me. Maybe she's over her weird little crush. "Want to get out of here?"

"I'm watching them," I nodded towards the boys.

"Where's your mom?"

"Upstairs," I said carefully.

"Babysitting isn't your job," Santana told me. At that, the game was paused. Seeing as how Crosby and Rhys turned to look at Leo, I'm guessing he's the one who did it.

"We are not babies," he said sternly.

I rolled my eyes. "Of course not."

"And Judy's here. You can go if you want," he told me.

"I'd rather not leave you three."

"Why? We'll be fine, and if anything happens, I know CPR and where the First Aid Kit is." His expression was deadpanned, as it usually was. He looks too much like Santana.

"Kids got a point," His older sister smiled proudly. Sometimes I hate how smart that kid is.

* * *

"Where are you taking me?" I asked her. She ignored me, as I expected, and kept her eyes on the road in front of her. She's wearing her school attire, which makes me worry a little more. At home - her home, I mean - she wears blue jeans and a normal t-shirt. Is it odd that I find myself at ease when she's not wearing a leather jacket? I suppose that explains my nervousness. "Santana," I said sternly, "where are you taking me?"

"Just out," she muttered. It's getting darker, and being just 'out' with her makes my stomach turn. "Live a little, okay?"

"Live?" I scoffed, "Do you know me?"

"I do," she rolled her eyes, "that's _precisely_ why I'm telling you that."

I slumped a little in my seat. I do live! Not just breathing - I go to parties often. I go out. I live, and she has no right to tell me otherwise. "How long will we be out?" I asked her. "Maribel gets home late, and I don't trust my mother with Rhys -"

"And Leo," she cut in swiftly.

"And Leo, and Crosby," I nodded, seeing as how she'd somewhat proven my point for me. "Not for long periods of time at least."

"We'll be back soon," she told me. She looked at me again before adding, "Don't worry. Leo's a good kid, and we won't be too long." Oddly enough, that kind of put me at ease. Leonardo was too mature for his own good.

When she pulled over, it was into an alley. My breathing hitched, something she noticed and smiled at. Of course she was enjoying this.

"Where the hell are we?" I gritted through my teeth. Without a word, she opened her car door and slid out. She reached over the wheel and took out she keys, then looked at me expectantly. "I'm not getting out," I said firmly.

"Oh really?" She smiled, an amused grin that I haven't seen in what seems like ages. "Fine," she shrugged indifferently. She closed the door without bothering to roll down the window. "You sure?" She asked me.

"Positive," I nodded and used what I hoped was a strong voice.

"Okay…" she said teasingly. "Just a few pointers - Crazy Al is harmless, but if he hops in, scream. If you see anyone other than Al, scream."

"Who is Al - Santana!" I called after her retreating form. "Santana!"

I think I survived a full two minutes alone in the passenger seat of Santana's car. I listened to the droplets coming from an unknown area, and inwardly cursed Santana for taking the keys. I grudgingly unbuckled my seat belt and got out of the car, closing the door as quietly as possible behind me after locking the doors. If I didn't need a ride home, I'd leave it unlocked. It would have been her fault for doing this to me.

I followed her path and soon heard the laughter of what sounded like a group of people. My stomach nearly dropped - I'm not planning on dying tonight. Before I could turn around, I heard Santana talk.

"It's been way too long," she laughed. I followed the sound until I was met with the sight of Santana, Noah Puckerman, Jesse St James, and a few other people that sported leather jackets. Of course. What did I expect her to do? Take me out and say, '_Hey Quinn, I don't know if you know this, but I have a little thing for you. Don't worry though, I'll get over it.' _No. She had to take me here, to one of their weird - what is this anyway? - club meetings. "Quinn!" She smirked. "You're just in time."

"What's she doing here?" Noah asked, he looked at me curiously, but spoke as if I wasn't standing right there.

"I brought her," Santana replied. I glared at her, so she rolled her eyes. "She had a flat, so I told her I'd give her a ride if she did my history notes for the next week," she lied casually, as if her words were rehearsed.

"Then why are you here?" Jesse asked.

"Couldn't pass up this opportunity," she smiled mischievously before tossing something towards me, muttering, "Catch," after it'd already left her hands. Luckily, being a Cheerio gave me some quick reflexes, I caught it with ease. I examined the small item, and saw that it was black spray paint.

"No," I scoffed. I don't do graffiti. No one does. It's stupid, neanderthal, against the law - and so _them_. I tossed it back to her.

"You want to go home?" She asked me. I crossed my arms.

"Take. Me. Home." I hissed. She chuckled darkly, then tossed the spray paint back to me.

"Draw me something pretty," she hissed back. The rest of the Black Jacks stared at us, switching their gazes from Santana, to me, then back. They've never really witnessed Santana taking me head on, not since the bleachers riot. Even then, it was more so Sam who took care of it.

I finally broke eye contact and looked down at the spray can in my hand, then at my wrist watch. It's already a little past eight, and the more time I spend here, the longer Rhys, Leo, and Crosby are at home (basically) alone. And I still have to drive Crosby to his house. I glared at her and slowly started to shake the can, earning a few whistles and laughs from the Black Jacks. Santana just stood there with a stupid triumphant smile and watched as I slowly walked towards the wall of the alley. I held the can close to the wall, then pressed down on the top. The liquid paint squirted out, and I immediately stopped and looked back at her.

"Satisfied?" I spat.

"You can do better than that," she told me, earning laughter from the rest of her friends. I scoffed and went over the dot, creating a long, vertical line. I looked back at her with both eyebrows raised. She clicked her tongue and sauntered over to me, took the can, but held up my index finger. The tip was adorned with black paint. "Now you can't call the cops."

"I _can_ say you forced me," I said quietly, just loud enough for her to hear.

"And I _can_ say I didn't." She countered. Without another word, she turned to face the wall, and started spraying away. I rolled my eyes and turned away, and saw that the rest of them lost interest in us and are now spraying various colors at the dark walls of the alley. When I heard Santana stop spraying I looked back at her ready to demand to be taken home - then I saw what she'd done to my line. It was beautiful. She turned it into a rose, much larger than what my line had been.

"How did you do that?" I asked with wide eyes.

"Practice," she shrugged.

I cleared my throat then looked away from her work. "Please take me home," I asked, gently this time. To my surprise, she nodded.

"One more thing," she said without looking at me. She bent down and took another can out of their bag, then went back to spraying. This time, I watched. She looked so...determined. I don't think I've ever seen her so focused. The way he furrowed her eyebrows, poked out her tongue, and every once in a while, she'll take her bottom lip in between her teeth - "Done," she said, interrupting my train of thought. What was I even thinking?

"Perfect," I breathed once I saw that she'd filled in the blank spaces with red paint. She gave me a small smile, then turned to face her friends. She nodded at them, then started to walk away. I followed her.

* * *

Later that night, I woke up with the familiar beads of sweat lined along my forehead, my lungs refusing to work properly: the usual. This time, I didn't even realise that I woke up screaming. The only thing that I could feel was fear. Those knocks came again, but I didn't bother with replying. Whoever knocked opened the door and let themselves in, but I pretended to still be asleep. I heard footsteps come closer, until they stood right in front of the bed. I didn't move. The person moved a lock of hair from my face, then gently ran the back of their hand down my cheek. Just when I thought they'd walk away, I felt soft lips on my cheek. A few seconds later, the person started to walk away. As soon as I heard the door move, I opened one eye; just in time to see Santana closing the door behind herself.

* * *

**_A/N- _**_I'm glad that the majority you guys have liked the previous chapters :) I'll clear up any confusion as the story progresses, but here's one thing that I think should be said now: Quinn is not the main reason Santana's father acted the way he did. Santana didn't mention her when she came out to her parents, only that she felt she loved girls the way she was "supposed" to love boys. _

_I'm trying to update often, I hope I'm doing a good job so far. Adios!_

_\- KP_


	5. Chapter 5

_An update, because tonight is the last new episode of Glee. All this time, since the last season begun, I've said "We don't talk about the end until it's here. Then we cry." I don't think I'm prepared for the flashbacks, but I hope you are. On to the story... _

* * *

Momma decided to use my car this morning. Of course I was only aware of this when I couldn't find my car keys. I grumbled to myself and sat down in one of the tall chairs of the kitchen, crossing one leg over the other. It's become a habit because of these Cheerios uniforms.

"Judy left," Santana told me as she poured some Frosted Flakes into Rhys's bowl. "She said she had some errands to run."

"Of course," I mumbled.

"You can ride with us," Leonardo said through a mouth full of cereal. "Right, San?"

"I, uh, don't know if that's a good idea -"

"How am I supposed to get to school?" I asked her.

"I thought you wouldn't want to be seen with me," she said, low enough for Rhys and Leo not to hear. "No one knows."

"I can walk a little of the way," I said. After a few seconds, she nodded.

"We'll leave in five."

* * *

I don't think I've ever seen Sam so angry. His jaw was locked, his knuckles clenched, his usual sunkissed skin was nearly beat red.

"What happened?" I asked as I approached my friends on the steps.

"I had to give him a ride today," Blaine told me. I noticed how upset he looked.

"Why?" I asked him.

"They slashed my tires," Sam explained in a gravely deep voice. I almost feared the answer, but I asked anyway.

"Who?"

"Who do you think?" He spat. "Black Jacks."

As if on cue, the Black Jacks themselves came striding towards the stairs. They nodded towards us, even Santana. I noticed Noah and Sebastian wearing smiles that were...what would be the correct word...genuine?

"Drive safely?" Noah smiled coyly as they passed us on the stairs. The rest of the group erupted in a fit of laughter.

"You!" Sam barked. Before any of us could react, he threw himself at Noah, nearly knocking both of them down. Noah immediately held his fists up, clearly well prepared to take on the blonde boy.

"What are you talking about, Evans?" Noah taunted.

"You know _exactly _what I'm talking about!" Sam threw a punch, but it was easily dodged, even laughed at. Noah was clearly amused.

"Sam." Blaine shook his head firmly, then nodded towards the small crowd that started to gather at the foot of the steps. Slowly, Sam lowered his hands.

"This will be settled," Sam hissed. Noah chuckled.

"I'm looking forward to it!" He called after us. We started to walk away, but before it was too late, I glanced back at Santana. Her expression was stoic. She held eye contact, and didn't look away until Sebastian nudged her. When she cracked a small smile, I looked away.

"This is why we can't get along," I told Brittany, who was walking beside me. She nodded. "All of them are untrustworthy," I said more to myself than to her. Of course Santana knew about he slashing. Of course she wouldn't try to stop it. I told her myself, me staying at her house doesn't change anything.

* * *

There hasn't been this much tension in the halls of McKinley in a long time. Everything was uneasy, everyone was eyeing us as if we'd explode at any minute. Either at them, or at one of the Black Jacks. Everyone was clearly afraid of being slushied.

"They carved into the paint too," Sam muttered. He kept his head down and glared at his food as if the mashed potatoes damaged his car.

"We can do it you know. Operation Blue." Blaine offered.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Finn said to us.

"We haven't done that since the Bleachers-" I tried, but I was almost immediately cut of by Sam.

"We're doing it." He said to us. Operation Blue was a go, rather I liked it or not.

I couldn't help but feel sympathetic for Santana; which is exactly why I'm doing this.

"Lopez," I approached her near the bleachers. The rest of her friends looked up at me, so I glared at them. "Can I have a word?"

"About?" She asked me.

"When you drove me home, I think something slipped out of my pocket," I lied easily. Luckily, she caught on.

"Come on," she said to me.

Once we were away from her friends, and rested my hands on my hips. "Really, Santana?" I asked.

"What?"

"The wheels and the paint. Why would you?"

She pursed her lips and looked around quickly. "Come on," she said as she strode past me. I followed her, seeing as how she left me without a choice. She led me to the back of the library, then into a small storage room for books deemed too old to be used again, then closed the door behind me. "I didn't know about it, okay?"

"Why would I believe you?" I asked her.

"Because it's the truth. They didn't tell me they'd really do it, just joking -"

"It's not a joke, Santana. Sam's family can't afford lots of luxury items, he drives his siblings to and from school - don't you guys ever think about the consequences?" I yelled.

"We didn't know that. And we don't care," she deadpanned.

"Don't care? I know about your little crush on me, Santana. Don't try to _act_ like you don't care." I said it before I had time to think.

"W-what are you talking about?" She asked with wide eyes.

"Never mind," I said quickly. "Just… I shouldn't tell you this, but Operation Blue is on. Right now."

"And you're not doing anything to stop it?" She spat.

"Sound kind of familiar?" I asked, just as harshly as she did.

"_Fuck you_," she seethed. She left without another word.

"Oh boy.." I mumbled.

* * *

Word got out that Operation Blue was happening, leaving the student body petrified. Even teachers were steering clear of the hallways. I saw Sam with a slushie cup in his hand, so I knew it was time. I can't get how hurt Santana looked out of my mind, so I ended up squeezing the cup that Blaine handed to me too hard. Luckily, I didn't get it on my uniform, just all over my hand.

"I'll be right back," I gritted through my teeth. Blaine nodded, so I stomped to the girls restroom. After rinsing my hand off, I heard the bathroom door get pushed open so hard that it slammed against the wall. Sure enough, there stood Santana. Drenched in blue slushie.

"Excuse me," she spat as she walked by me. They got her good, it's all through her hair and on her jacket - that means more than one person did it. They must have gotten all athletes to participate this time, so they could double up. They definitely got the message through, because there is no way she'll be able to get _that_ out easily.

"Sorry," I mumbled. She grumbled something in response, but I didn't leave. "Blue is a good color on you," I tried.

"Oh, thanks. Just what I wanted to hear," she grunted as she waited for the water to get warm.

"Let me help you," I suggested as I stepped towards her.

"No," she held out her hand to stop me. I noticed her eyes were red. "Just leave me alone, okay?"

"No, I want to help you," I said firmly.

"Well I don't want your help!" She yelled. The door opened, and we both glared at the ladies who were trying to come in.

"Get out!" We yelled. They did, immediately.

"You too," she told me, but softer. "Please."

I shook my head, "You won't be able to get that out by yourself." I reached into my bag and pulled out a ring of keys. When she looked at me questioningly, I shrugged and said, "I stole them from a custodian." She bit back a smile, but I let mine show. I locked the bathroom door, then stepped towards to again. After touching the water and feeling that it was lukewarm, I nodded at her. "That's as good as it'll get. Start running it over your hair, and I'll go grab my travel pack from my locker."

"How will you get back in?" She asked me, finally giving in I see.

"I have a key, remember?" I smiled.

"Darn," she said sarcastically. I rolled my eyes and picked up my bag, then with a small wave, I walked out of the restroom. The damage done is clear, and if I don't want to get caught, I have to move quickly. There is blue slushie everywhere. I jogged to my locker, grabbed the little make up bag that had miniature everything in it, then went back to the bathroom.

"Okay, I have shampoo, conditioner, and if you don't like blueberry, I have toothpaste," I smiled cheekily.

"What about my clothes?" She asked in a small voice.

"I have my cheer sweats and-"

"No," she deadpanned.

"Santana, your top and even some of your pants are ruined-"

"And who's fault is that?" She bit.

"Noah's for slashing Sam's tires!" I told her. "Now tuck your pride away, and let me make up for it now that there's no taking anything back, okay?"

"Fine," she mumbled.

"Great, now lean over," I said as I took out the shampoo and conditioner. She arched an eyebrow, but leaned over the sink none the less. "Thank you," I smiled smugly as I squeezed some shampoo into my palm. After rubbing it between my hands, I started to work my fingers through her hair. After a minute or two, the blue finally started to wash down the drain. I'm pretty sure I heard a low groan, so I worked that particular area a little harder. You know… just to clean it well.

"Quinn…" I heard her say lowly. I couldn't hold back my small smile, so I'm glad she couldn't see it. I rinsed out the shampoo, then started the conditioner. After that, she sat up straight. I have to admit, she looks pretty hot with her hair all curly and wavy like that. I cleared my throat when I realized we were both just looking at each other.

"I-I'll be right back with the clothes," I spun on my heel. Just before I walked through the door, I turned to look at her. "Please don't leave," I said to her.

"I won't."

* * *

I strode through the cleared hallways back to my locker, swiftly put in my combination, then grabbed my cheer clothes for Santana. With the sweats and flowy tank folded in my hands, I started my way back to the bathroom.

"Ms. Fabray!" Came Mr. Figgins' voice. "My office. Now."

"But I-"

"Now," he said impatiently. I glanced towards the bathroom and sighed.

"Can I just do this really fast?" I asked.

"Your punishment for the events that happened today will be even greater if you do not start walking," he told me. I rolled my eyes and followed him, silently hoping Santana would wait and wouldn't think I ditched her.

"What were you _thinking_?" He asked me. "I've already spoken to your friends."

"I didn't do anything!" I told him. "I went to the -"

"Then explain the blue stain on her hand," he pointed.

I sighed, "You see, my friend handed one to me, and I squeezed it, so it spilled -"

"And you expect me to believe that?" He chuckled.

"It's the truth," I sat back and crossed my arms. "But, someone who _did_ get slushied is in the bathroom, and she's probably cold because I'm supposed to be bringing her clothes to change into."

"Oh, I -"

"Please," I frowned. "Just let me take her the clothes, then you can give me detention or something." After a few empty seconds, he nodded.

We walked to the girls restroom, and he arched an eyebrow when I knocked on the door. "It's locked," I explained. No one answered.

"Ms. Fabray, you brought me to an empty restroom -"

"I didn't," I argued. "She's in there." _Hopefully_. I stood there knocking for a good three minutes before Figgins and I both gave up. We turned away from the door. Of course. Why would she stay, anyway? I mean, I was only trying to help her and make sure she wouldn't walk around in soggy blue clothes, but whatever.

"Detention for a week," he said to me. I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever," I mumbled as we walked away. Then, to both of our surprise, the bathroom door started to open. I smiled when I saw Santana peeking through the door. I smirked at Figgins, who stood with his mouth agape. "If you'll excuse me," I said to Figgins before disappearing behind behind the bathroom door with Santana.

"Thought you ditched me," she said with her back towards me. Her hair was braided back, and looked like it was almost dry. She must have been sitting under the hand dryer.

"I wouldn't," I told her. She turned to look at me.

"Really? Because you've done some pretty messed up things before," she challenged me.

"About what I said before -" I tried.

"You know what?" She silenced me. "Forget it. You were right. _Were_. But now, I don't think you are who I thought you were."

"And who did you think I was?" I crossed my arms. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Tell me this, Quinn," she started to take out her braid, "if you weren't already in the bathroom, what are the chances of you throwing a slushie at one of us? Myself included."

"I wouldn't," I told her. Would I?

"Bullshit," she chuckled darkly. "You really wouldn't?"

"No," I said again. I really wouldn't. Right?

She gave me an amused smile and shook her head. "Then why did you have that?" She pointed at a Big Gulp cup on the floor, halfway filled with the remains of blue slushie.

"Santana, I -"

"It's fine, Q," my nickname rolled off of her tongue as if she's said it a million times before, but that didn't completely wipe the hurt from her eyes. "Thank you," she said shortly as she took the clothes from me. "I'll wash them at home. You'll have them back tonight."

"O-okay," I said softly. She gave me a thin lipped smile, then went inside of a stall.

"Are you still here?" She asked over a few seconds. I nodded, then remembered she couldn't see me.

"Yeah," I said out loud. The stall opened, and she was now dressed in my clothes.

"Why?" She asked me with a blank expression.

"I-I thought -"

"Don't you remember, Quinn?" she asked me as she folded up her clothes. "This doesn't change anything. You still don't like me, and I still don't like you." She threw my words at me like they tasted bad on her tongue. She didn't give me time to think of a response before she was out of the bathroom, leaving me to listen to the echo of the door closing. I didn't expect… I didn't think it would hurt.

* * *

"What's she doing with that outfit?" Sam asked. We're outside of the school, which has just ended. The Black Jacks passed us glaring, Santana not included. She stared straight ahead.

"Isn't that your shirt, Q?" Brittany asked me. I nodded.

"She was drenched," I shrugged.

"That's the point," Sam reminded me. As if I needed a reminder.

"I don't care," I mumbled.

"Well, you should."

"Get over it. Your tires got slashed, we'll all chip in. It's no big -"

"Who's _side_ are you on?" Sam asked lowly. The rest of them stared at us as we glared at eachother.

"Our's," I hissed.

"Then start acting like it."

* * *

_**A Few Days Later**_

_Dear Diary, _

_I haven't written in this thing in years. Well, I guess now's a good time to start. As good as any, right? Wow, my life has changed. I read my last entry, it was signed 'Until next time, Lucy.' My, how time has changed me. Well, to start, today was weird. A few days ago, Santana and the Jocks and Cheerios (not Britt) were all pissed. With each other, as always, and with me. Operation Blue was a stupid idea. Anyway, I wrote about things in this diary that felt to personal to share with people, and then I made friends. Now, I don't think I can tell my friends about this. Three days ago, I accidently told Santana I knew she liked me. She told me she thought I was different. Now… now I don't know what to say. I see her at the house, and all I want to ask is what's so different? What did she like? What does she not like now? Did I change, did she? My dear Diary, is it possible for someone to appear beautiful overnight? Santana makes me angry. She always has. But now it's because she, I don't know, she's making me feel differently. Confused? God. Why am I even writing this, I should be making calls to see who can perform at the dance. _

_Until I wri_

_No. The person I thought I was wouldn't feel this way. _

_Until next time, _

_Lucy _

I closed my journal, then tucked it in the bottom drawer of my night stand. I checked the time - it's around midnight. Too late to make calls. After tossing and turning for a few minutes in my bed, I decided to go downstairs. Maybe Leo is down there, he always has a funny remark to cheer me up, even when he doesn't mean to. Maybe Santana is down there, and I can get her to talk to me.

No one was downstairs. I got some water went back to my room, missing the way Santana slipped discreetly into her own when I passed.

* * *

**_Days Later..._**

I had to do a double take when it happened. Was that… a kick? I turned around, only to see Santana looking down at her book. I turned forward, and felt another kick.

"Can I help you?" Santana whispered when I turned to look at her again.

"You kicked my chair," I gave her a small smile. She shifted awkwardly in her seat.

She cleared her throat. "No I didn't."

"Yes you did," I argued. She rolled her eyes.

"You're crazy."

"No," I shook my head, "I'm relatively sane for a girl."

At that, she cracked a small smile. "Can I get a ride home today?" She asked after a few seconds. "Noah picked me up this morning."

"He can't drop you off?"

"I can't have a ride?" She arched an eyebrow.

"You know what? Sure." I told her before turning to face the front again.

"Not afraid of being seen with me?" She challenged. I thought about Sam and the guys, but shook my head without looking at her.

* * *

I could feel the Jocks and Cheerios staring at me as Santana and I walked to my car. If this is the only way she'll talk to me, then I don't care about what they think. Once we were seated, she looked at me with a smile and shook her head.

"What?" I chuckled.

"You're going to get hell tomorrow," she said teased nonchalantly.

"So will you," I pointed. She shrugged.

"There's the difference between us," she faced forward. "You actually care."

"Santana, I just walked with you. To my car."

"It's a start," she shrugged. A start to what, exactly? I didn't dare ask that out loud.

When we pulled up in front of her house, the two of us sat in the car silently. "I, um, have homework," I said, breaking the silence.

"Right," she clicked her tongue. She leaned over and picked up her bag, then slid out of the car. I watched her as she walked away, and she did so without looking back. Santana Lopez, what are you doing to me?

* * *

_**Days Later...**_

We sat around the dinner table as we usually do, Leonardo and Rhys babbled on about their days as they usually did, and Santana's stoic expression was in place; extraordinarily ordinary is how I've come to explain this whole situation.

"And your's, girls?" Maribel asked us. I bit the inside of my cheek. Today isn't something I'd like to relive, actually. And it started out so well.

"_Okay ladies, let's show Sue we've got more than what it takes!" I told the team. Brittany nodded happily in agreement, both of us believe that we're finally ready to show coach what we've accomplished. The routine is running smoothly, each of us have the dance in our bones and the cheer memorised by heart. Finally, it's time for the pyramid - my favorite part. I'm on top. _

_Our knees are locked, our chins are held high, and everything is secure. And that's where everything went wrong. I didn't see Santana this morning, she left before I was ready for breakfast. I guess that's why her appearance caught me off guard. When the Black Jacks left the bleachers and dispersed, I saw her. Her shorts were, um… short? How is she allowed to wear those here? They are blue jean material, a stark difference from her leather jacket. It was then that I noticed how tan her legs were. And long, gorgeous really. Then she saw me. Her eyes locked with mine, and I smirk formed on her lips. Then, my knees wobbled. The girls below me kept their grip to hold me still, and I know without looking that Sue is approaching us. _

_Then Santana winked. In less than a second, I could feel myself falling. First forwards, but then the girls below me stopped that. I was relieved for about two seconds before I realized that I was going backwards. I yelped, and saw a look of panic take over Santana's scowl as I fell. The boys were practicing as well, so by my absolute luck, Sam caught me. We both fell to the ground, but he broke my fall without breaking any bones. When we both stood up, I secretly looked around for Santana, but she and her friends were gone. I thanked Sam, then prepared myself for Sue's wrath. _

"Fine," both Santana and I said at the same time.

"Teenagers," Maribel scoffed playfully. "Can't get more than a syllable out of them."

"The park got remodeled," Leonardo said, bringing the attention back to himself. "They've added all new things."

"We passed it on the ride back," Rhys explained. "Quinnie, can you take us tomorrow?"

"I don't see why not," I shrugged. Tomorrows Saturday, so I can take them after Cheerios practice.

"Can we come with you to practice?" Rhys asked shyly. I've taken him before, and he loved it. The girls swooned over him, pinching his cheeks and calling him adorable every two seconds.

"Sure," I smiled.

"I could be a cheerleader," Rhys said with a smug smile. "I used to take gymnastics."

"Cheer leading is for girls," Judy said, speaking up for the first time tonight. "Not for young men."

"Masons' a cheerleader," my little brother argued, his voice smaller than before.

"_Mason_ needs to play a sport."

"Momma," I cut my eyes at her. "Rhys, maybe you can try it one day."

It didn't help. His shoulders slumped and his smile vanished, but he gave me a small nod.

"Maybe I can too," Leo smiled reassuringly. "Could be fun." At that, Rhys lit up again. I noticed that the longer his hair grew, the wavier it became. A few strands escaped the 'Man Bun' he put it in, and I have to say, long hair really suits him.

* * *

_I love reading the reviews you guys leave, the fact that many of you like this story really means a lot to me. And to those of you concerned- this is, without a doubt, Quinntana end game._

_I'll try my best to update soon!_


	6. Chapter 6

_I turn my chin music up_  
_And I'm puffing my chest_  
_I'm getting red in the face_  
_You can call me obsessed_  
_It's not your fault that they hover_  
_I mean no disrespect_  
_It's my right to be hellish_

_(...is it?)_

_(Nick Jonas - Jealous)_

* * *

I watched the boys from the corner of my eye while we practiced. Rhys has lots of potential. He hasn't been to his gymnastics class since last year, but as he practices with Leo, he slowly regains his skill. They stretched with us, and Rhys learned that he could still do the splits facing the right, but it hurt too much to do the left. He left his hair down today, but was wearing one of the thin black headbands that I bought for him. Leonardo gelled up his mohawk.

Now, Leo is holding up Rhys while my brother stands on his hands.

"Think you can walk?" I heard Leo ask.

"Think so," Rhys said to him. Leo carefully let go, leaving Rhys to manage on his own. He made it a few feet before putting his legs back on the ground to stand straight up. I went to them when practice ended.

"I saw you, kiddo," I smiled proudly. "You still have it."

"I want to start taking classes again," he said, and his face was still a little pink from being upside down.

"Or I can teach you," I offered.

"Both of us," Leo smiled hopefully.

"Of course," I nodded. "Let's go back to the house, I'll get changed then we can go."

* * *

When we walked inside, I immediately hid in the hallway. Santana had a friend over. I think his name is Clint, he doesn't even go to Mckinley, but he seems to be friendly enough with the Black Jacks to be considered one of them. He and Santana are sitting awfully close on the couch. My stomach turned at the image, but I'm glad she didn't see me.

"That's Leo, and… his friend, Rhys," I heard Santana tell Clint.

"It's very nice to meet you, bud," Clint said.

"We're going to the park," Leo said as his way of greeting, "would you like to come with us?"

"No," Santana said firmly. Clint, on the other hand, had different ideas.

"Actually, it's a nice day out," he said. I scoffed. "Can we go, San?" He's such an obnoxious child. How could Santana settle for _him_?

"Actually, I kind of wanted to stay here. To talk." Santana said suggestively. Clint lit up like a Christmas tree. At that, I walked away and to my room. I don't want to hear Santana talking about hooking up with other guys, or _anyone_, and I certainly, don't like Clint. His voice is too annoying. _That's_ why I don't like him, it has nothing to do with Santana. It's his stupid voice.

I went to my room to change into some clothes, and quickly convinced myself that I wasn't trying to impress anyone. No, I'm wearing this short white sleeveless dress and this really cute white and black striped cardigan for _myself_. Showing just the right amount of cleavage for myself, of course. And this - I dabbed some lipstick on my lips - is for myself too. I slipped on some white flats, then smiled at my reflection in the bathroom's mirror.

Without thinking, I walked right into the living room. I shouldn't have done this, I should have snuck out, but there's no going back now. I gained the attention of everyone in the room, Clint included. His square shaped jaw dropped, along with Santana's.

"Quinn Fabray," he uttered, "what are you doing here?"

I gave him a small, fake smile, "I'm taking my brother and his friend to the park."

"You look beautiful, Quinnie," Rhys smiled cheekily. I ran my fingers through his hair as a silent way of thanking him.

"Ready to go, Leo and Rhys?" I asked them. I took note of the way Santana's eyes scanned me. "Are you two tagging along?" I asked Santana innocently.

"No." Clint said. I didn't even bother with trying to hold back my scoff.

"Actually," Santana cleared her throat, "I could use some fresh air."

* * *

The three of us sat down on the bench while Leo held his hands near an upside down Rhys' feet, hovering around them ready to steady him if the little blonde was about to fall.

"So, they're friends?" Clint asked awkwardly. "Leonardo seems a little older than Rhys."

"They're close," I answered shortly. Clint sat between Santana and I, probably wishing he was anywhere else in the world. At least, if I was in his position, I would too. I looked back to the playground, and Rhys and Leo were now talking to two familiar looking kids. One was a girl, the other a boy. They look like Stevie and Stacey, and if they're here, that means Sam is -

"Quinn?" He asked as he approached us. He glanced at Santana, who stared him down confidently. "What are you doing here?"

"Rhys wanted to check out the park," I smiled kindly and stood up to hug him. I didn't miss the way Santana dropped eye contact.

"Ah," he nodded. "You look nice."

"Thank you," I tucked a stray hair behind my ear. Santana coughed, so I looked at her, but she had her attention on Leo and Rhys.

"I actually wanted to talk to you, want to go for a little walk?" He asked me.

"I'm watching my brother," I reminded him with an arched eyebrow.

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be fine," Sam waved it off.

"As long as we stay close."

He nodded, "I can do close."

"Charming," Santana mumbled. I don't think she meant for it to be heard, but at the same time, I don't think she cares.

I chose to ignore it, and instead turned to her with a faux smile in place. "Can you watch Rhys for a minute please?"

"Sure," she said after a few empty seconds. Sam playfully held out his arm for me to take, so I giggled and wrapped mine around his.

"So," he started once we were out of hearing range from Santana and Clint, "you're hanging out with Lopez."

"Our brothers are friends," I explained. He nodded, but something tells me that didn't lighten the situation. To my surprise he, smiled.

"Today is beautiful, isn't it?" He asked me. He was right. It was warm, but not hot. A cool breezed traveled through the air, refreshing everything in it's presence.

"It is," I nodded in agreement.

"How is planning for the dance going?"

"It's coming along. I just have to call to arrange a performance," I told him.

"Will you go to the dance with me, Quinn?" He blurted. I blinked. I didn't expect him to just come out with it. As if it was on cue, which it probably was, Stevie ran up to us with a white carnation - my favorite flower. I thanked him and took it.

"Of course," I gave Sam a tight lipped smile, then glanced back at Santana. My stomach dropped. Clint had taken Santana's chin between his fingers, and kissed her. Suddenly, the day didn't seem so nice. It's way too hot, and I think it's a good idea for me to take the boys home. Sam followed my gaze and scowled when he saw Santana and Clint making out. Me too, Sam. But for completely different reasons that I'm not even really sure of. "My mom wants Rhys and I home," I uttered.

"When?" Sam asked.

"Now," I said before turning on my heel and going straight to Rhys and Leo. "It's time to go," I said to them.

"I can give you a ride!" Sam called. I shook my head. Before I could say anything, Rhys crossed his arms defiantly.

"But it's only been ten minutes," Rhys whined.

"Why?" Leo asked, his arms were crossed as well, but they looked a lot less childish than Rhys'. He even tilted his head to the side, seemingly willing to actually listen to my explanation - it's a shame that I don't have a good one.

"I don't feel well," I said truthfully.

"San's still here, we can stay with her," Leo reminded me. I glanced back at Santana, who was now basically half way on Clint's lap. I winced.

"She's occupied," I managed to say. "Look, I'll bring you back tomorrow."

"After church?" Rhys asked.

"Sure," I nodded. "After church. Now, we can make some ice cream sundays when we get home." I took both of their hands and started to walk to my car.

"Hey!" Santana called after us. Looks like she needed to come up for air.

"What?" I snapped. She blinked, a little taken back by my tone. I rolled my eyes when she didn't respond.

"Where are you guys going?" She asked.

"We're leaving."

"You can't just take _my_ brother," she said harshly.

"Fine. Leo can stay," I tried to let go of his hand, but he held on.

"I want ice cream," he told me.

"Rhys can stay too," Santana offered. I shook my head.

"You look a little busy," I nodded bitterly towards Clint, who blushed immediately. "Bye, Santana."

"Bye," she said softly. I walked away with the boys, and could feel Sam and Santana watching me.

* * *

_Dear Diary, _

_Santana told the Pastor that her father used to hit her. I think that's why she wanted to be a part of the Black Jacks, and I think that she's not as bad as she wants everyone to think. I space out a lot more often now. And when I do, I think about Santana. I think about those camps. I don't think I've ever thought about someone this much before. And Clint today, God I wanted to slap that smug little smile off of his face. Who does she think she is anyway? I can have him slushied up until graduation, and he doesn't even go to McKinley! Because of his stupid voice. Not the kiss, his voice. But the kiss sucked too, I bet he's a terrible kisser. _

_Until next time, _

_Lucy_

After putting my journal away, this time on top of the nightstand, I checked the time as I did every night. It's almost midnight, just as it is after I do my homework and write in my journal. My life is becoming clockwork, and there's hardly anything I can do to stop it. I slid out of bed and downstairs, not exactly sure of what I was hoping to find. Sure enough, there stood Santana. She was leaning over the counter, her back facing me.

"Leo just went to bed," she said without turning, "I know it's you, Quinn."

After a few seconds, I found my voice. "It is," I admitted quietly. Finally, she turned to face me. She pointed to a pot that sat idly on the stove.

"Want some hot chocolate?" She asked me. I shook my head, a small smile formed on my lips.

"But thank you," I told her. She nodded, then went back to tracing the rim of her mug of cocoa with her index finger. I stood there awkwardly, unsure of why I stayed, but positive that I wouldn't be able to walk away if I tried. "So…" I started, "Clint, huh?"

"I suppose," Santana said carefully. I nodded. Questions flew through my mind faster than I could process them. You used to like me? For how long? Why? What changed? Did you notice that we're complete opposites? How did - "Well, I'm going to sleep," Santana blurted. I nodded. "Good night," she said to me. Again, all I could do was nod. With that, she brushed past me and upstairs to her room. I exhaled a deep breath that I didn't know I was holding, then went back upstairs once I decided that I didn't like being down here all alone.

* * *

I don't remember falling asleep, but I sure as hell remember waking up. As much as I hate my dreams, I hate waking up from them the most. The raw soreness of my throat from involuntarily screaming has to be the worst part. I sit up and rest my hand on my chest, struggling to get my breathing under control. Tonight's was the scariest. I could hear Rhys crying for me, begging me to find him. My hair is matted to my forehead, and my heart feels like it's about to burst from my chest. Those two knocks sound like music to my ears.

"Come in," I said, my voice raspy and shaky from crying.

"Are you okay?" Santana asked in a small voice. "Want me to get your mom or something?"

"No!" I choked out quickly.

"Okay…" She said hesitantly. "Well -"

"Santana?"

"Yeah?" She didn't move from the door.

"Stay?" I asked softly. I couldn't see very clearly, but I can tell she hasn't moved from her spot. For a moment, I start internally panicking, afraid that I've overstepped my bounds and she's over me and it's not really her fault that I don't know how or what to feel - I felt someone dip into my bed. I turned to face her, and could make out brown eyes staring right back into mine. I looked into them until my eyelids grew too heavy, then gave in.

It wasn't long before I was sitting up again, terrified. This time, the person beside me wrapped themselves around my to stop my kicking. Instead of feeling suffocated, I welcomed their soft touch and sank into their embrace, and the way they whispered, "_Everything is okay_," sounded like music to my ears.

* * *

When I woke up clinging to someone, my first instinct was to smile. I clung a little closer. Then that '_someone_' started to stir. I forced my eyes to open fully, and nearly jumped out of my skin. Santana is laying in my bed. Santana is sleeping.

"Hey," I said hesitantly. She didn't react. "Wake up," I hissed a little harsher than I intended to, but it seemed to do the job.

"No," she pouted without opening her eyes. I bit my lip to hold back the smile. Maybe I can get used to waking up to this. I let her lay for a while longer, and decided to lay back down with her. "Quinn?" I heard her ask. I let my eyes flutter open. Almost as soon as I did so, she jumped from the bed, and I sat up abruptly.

"Good morning," I said before taking my bottom lip between my teeth.

"_Good morning_?" She snapped, scrunching up her eyebrows. Some how, in a mere matter of seconds she's managed to move several feet away from my bed.

I rolled my eyes, "It's usually what people say in the morning."

She took a deep breath, then she wet her lips. "Good morning," she said finally. With that, she walked out of my room.

* * *

_I'm loving the reactions to this. I hope you guys liked the little cuddle thingy :)_

_And also, to the person to mentioned 'Kingdom Come__' (_thedragontheprincessthewriter)_ : YES. &amp; Anyone who is not reading that, please start, it's fantastic. _

_**To those of you who asked questions**-_

_ Rhys might be gay, but keep in mind, he's only 8 and doesn't have a father figure, so he doesn't really distinguish masculine and feminine things yet. All he knows is that his big sister is really cool, so he wants to be like her. _

_Other Glee kids that are not a part of the Jocks and Cheerios or Black Jacks are in Glee Club, which will come into play soon. Remember when Rachel and Kurt asked if the club could sing for the dance?_

_Sexist Crap\- I'm sorry that I made you feel that way, and I hope that you can forgive me. I never meant to offend any one, I was watching that episode of Glee while writing that chapter. And also, Quinn's character has been defined by men before in the show, but that was not the purpose of that chapter. I'm sorry, and I'll try not to make it seem that way again for either of the girls, but it's difficult when there are so many awesome lead male characters. I'll try to add more girls, and thank you for your review. _

Quinn doesn't trust Judy because of what went down before her father died. That will be expressed later

I'm working on the next chapter to keep the updates speedy, see ya next time c:


	7. Chapter 7

_I just finished this and wanted to get this up as soon as possible! _

_Just to clear things up before you start- Santana is 100% gay._

* * *

_But God can be funny_  
_At a cocktail party when listening to a good God-themed joke, or_  
_Or when the crazies say He hates us_  
_And they get so red in the head you think they're 'bout to choke_  
_God can be funny,_  
_When told he'll give you money if you just pray the right way_  
_And when presented like a genie who does magic like Houdini_  
_Or grants wishes like Jiminy Cricket and Santa Claus_  
_God can be so hilarious_

_(Laughing With - Regina Spektor)_

* * *

I straightened Rhys' tie, it was a very light blue - just like his eyes. Once I was finished, he spun on his heel and went on chatting with Leonardo as he always did. I smiled at that, they've come to think of each other as best friends. Maybe even brothers. Santana is far from my friend, let alone my sister. Even thinking about that makes me cringe. I smoothed down my own dress, which was a pale yellow. I picked up my white cardigan from the arm of the couch, just as Maribel was coming downstairs.

"Santana won't be joining us," she said, "she doesn't feel well." We nodded in understanding, and she raised her eyebrows and smiled. After releasing a sigh, she spoke again. "I suppose we'd better get going," she chuckled.

We must have looked like an odd bunch. All of us dressed in our sunday best, but each family looking remarkably different from the other. I suppose that's just another thing that I've grown used to, even if the other family is the last family on earth that I'd think to grow accustomed to.

* * *

All through Church, I've been thinking about Santana. When I listened to Pastor Davis, I couldn't hear what he was actually saying. All I could hear was him tell Santana to, '_Consider calling the number on these pamphlets._' I've heard rumors about those kinds of places. Rumors about people coming back mentally unstable, or unchanged at all. The longer I sat there, the more I came to despise my Pastor's decision. Who was he to tell Santana how to fix something that probably didn't need fixing. If anything, I need fixing. Or at least some clarity, because I don't know how I feel at all and I could really use some advice. Or at least someone to be there for me.

I squirmed a little in my seat, and glanced down at Rhys, who was too busy whispering with Leo to notice. I looked at my mom, who stared vacantly forward. Then at Maribel, who looked confused. And maybe sad. I can't begin to think why - '_My father, the pastor…_' Santana's words echoed in my mind. Suddenly, I didn't want to be there. The church used to be the only place I could go to find peace, but I don't think peace exists at the moment.

Without waiting a second longer, I stood from my seat, mumbling "Pardon me," to the people I passed. I didn't look back when I slipped out of the giant doors, and I ignored it when I could hear momma hissing my name. I don't want to be here, and she doesn't want to make a scene.

* * *

The house was eerily quiet when I walked through the front door. I guess I expected Santana's friends to be lounging in in the living room, laughing about anything, and actually enjoying themselves. I saw Santana's car out front, so unless she was picked up, she's here. I treaded up the stairs, and walked a little slower when I heard Santana's voice. I stopped completely beside her door, which was only slightly ajar.

"Right," she said, "um, I turn eighteen in one month. Yes. Mhm." I dared to take a small step forward and peek through her door. She was pacing, with one hand she held her cell phone to her ear, with the other, she held a small pamphlet. "Thank you, Alex. I'll see you soon." When I heard her sigh, I cleared my throat to make my presence known. She jumped in place, then rolled her eyes. "What are you doing here?" I ignored her question.

"Who was that?" I asked as I stepped into her room. It was then that I realized I've never been inside of Santana's room. The walls were painted black, and there was a reggae poster hung over her bed. It smelled like a faint mix of weed and Santana's perfume.

"Nobody," she answered too quickly. "Aren't you supposed to be at church?"

I shrugged, and quickly snatched the two pamphlets from her bed before she could. "Care to explain?" I asked her. She tried to take them, but I took a step back and held them from her reach.

"It's nothing," she tried to take them again, but I didn't let her.

"Santana," I said sadly. She let her arms hang at her sides. "Please, talk to me."

"It's not like you care," she snarled.

"I thought I didn't, but I do. Especially when I think you're about to make a huge mistake -"

"You don't know what you're talking about, Fabray," she seethed. I pursed my lips and thought about the pros and cons of telling her what I do know.

"Pastor Dennis gave you those pamphlets," I said softly. She took her bottom lip between her teeth, then sighed and sat down on her bed. "Listen, I don't know why you'd want to change… well, I do, but I don't think it's worth it. "

"You know _nothing_," she said under her breath.

"I heard your confession -"

"You had no -"

"I know!" I yelled. We both just stared at each other until I backed down and looked at the floor. "I know," I said softer than before. "And I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted, and appreciated," she smiled sarcastically. It was gone as quickly as it came.

"What?"

"It's what my dad used to tell me to say," she explained. I gave her a small smile, then sat down next to her. We sat there in silence, both avoiding eye contact. I wonder if she's thinking about a lot of things, just like I am. I wonder if she can't think straight. "He said it builds character."

"How did you know?" I blurted. She looked up at me with scrunched eyebrows.

"Hm?"

"You know… that you were - I mean, that you _are…_ " I urged.

"You mean, how did I know that I was -"

"Yes," I nodded, not leaving her enough room to say it out loud.

She looked at me with a strange face for a few seconds, then realized I was serious. "I guess it's something that's always been in the back of my mind. I didn't put a name to it until middle school. Then I didn't talk about it. Then, freshman year of high school, a girl liked me back."

"What about your dad?" I asked quietly.

"He didn't like it," she said nonchalantly. "Nope."

"Why -"

"It's a sin, Quinn," she gritted through her teeth. I deflated a little and wet my lips. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. I sat up a little and smiled cheekily.

"Apology appreciated and accepted," I told her. This earned a small smile.

"Why do you want to know? Won't _Sam _be upset with you for spending all of this time with me?" She bit. I arched an eyebrow.

"Won't Clint?"

She shrugged. Again, we were thrown into silence that neither of us particularly wanted to fill.

"Santana," I said after a little while. She looked up at me. "Please don't go to those camps."

"Quinn -"

"Promise me you won't go," I said sternly. She shook her head softly.

"I can't promise you that," she told me. In one swift movement, I was close to her and cupping both of her cheeks with my hands. I'm pretty sure I'm not controlling myself anymore, but whoever it is shouldn't stop anytime soon. I have to do this now before I lose my nerve.

"Promise me," I said lowly. Before she could answer, I leaned in and pressed my lips against hers. It didn't take her long to react, and kiss me back. I'm not sure how long we stayed like that, but I remember her sneaking her tongue between my lips, and I embraced it. It could have been minutes or hours, but neither of us were counting. Time only mattered when we heard the thumping of Leo and Rhys running up the stairs. We immediately parted from each other, and I stood from her bed. I cleared my throat. "Your mom said you weren't feeling well," I told her. "Feel better."

I heard her say, "Thank you," quite breathlessly when I walked out of her room.

I looked up at the ceiling, and couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. This is so fucked up, my god, it's almost funny.

* * *

_Dear Diary, _

_What have I done? Santana is soft. Her skin, her hair, her lips. Everything. Her words even, sometimes. Dear Diary, who knew a sin's kiss could be softer and sweeter than any other? _

_Until next time,_

_Lucy_

* * *

Santana and I kept our eyes focused on the plates in front of us as we sat at the dinner table. Momma cleared her throat, but I didn't look at her.

"So, why did you run off today?" She asked me. I finished chewing, then looked up at her.

"I didn't feel well," I lied. She nodded, but still looked skeptical. I glanced at Santana, "I must have caught whatever she has." Santana coughed, nearly spitting out the water that she'd started to drink, and I bit back a smile.

"We'll have to pick up some medicine, what are your symptoms?" Maribel asked us.

"Headache," I said truthfully.

"Stomach pains," Santana said at the same time.

Maribel eyed us wearily, "Right," she said. With one last look at Santana, I put my head back down and continued to eye my food. I didn't miss the looks that Momma kept giving me.

* * *

I don't think sleep is even an option tonight. Santana is the only thing on my mind. I've always that that… same sex couples were just weird. Not wrong. I always wondered why they felt the why they did, but now I know. It's because of people like Santana. The people who know how to creep into the corner of your mind, bring their own little couch, and sleep there for as long as they'd like just so that you'd always think about them. Their lips are softer than anything else in the world. They are so charming that it's almost annoying, and they know how attractive they are. Those people make the world spin.

The sound of my door opening is what ripped me away from my thoughts, and I nearly started panicking when I saw Santana standing there.

"I didn't scream," I told her after a few tense seconds. She looked at me and took her bottom lip between her teeth.

"I know," she said. Then, with a few strides towards me, she was soon hovering over me, looking down at me like I was something to be admired. "Tell me to stop," she said in a voice so softly that I wasn't really sure if I imagined it. I kept my mouth closed. After a split second, she pressed her lips against mine. This one wasn't slow like it was earlier; this kiss was rushed and hard, but at the same time, the softest in the world. We kissed until our lips were sore, then she laid beside me, panting the same way I was. When I was fairly sure she wasn't going to say anything, I let my eyes close. "Good night, Quinn," she whispered. I'm pretty sure I said it back, if not, I gave her hand a little squeeze.

* * *

This time when I woke up, Santana wasn't there. I yawned and stretched my arms, then slipped out of my bed. There was no evidence. There was nothing to prove that last night or yesterday wasn't just some weird dream, and I don't know how I feel about that. I wish I could just ask someone how I'm supposed to feel, just for some clarity. I fixed my clothes and went to the bathroom, then scrunched my nose at my appearance. My hair was long and messy, but easy to comb through.

Soon enough, I was tightening my high pony, then adjusting the skirt of my uniform. I eyed myself in the mirror, and was reminded of how different Santana and I are. If anyone finds out about last night… I can't even fathom the thought. I walked to the kitchen, and was met with the sight of Santana sliding a pancake on her her brothers plate, and Rhys trying very hard to talk with his mouth full without spitting anything out.

"Morning Quinn," Leo, who spotted me first, greeted. I gave him a tight lipped smile and avoided eye contact with Santana.

"Santana bought whip cream," Rhys said excitedly, "so we can make funny face pancakes!" Santana glanced at me before retrieving another can of whip cream from the refrigerator and placing it in front of me. "Did you sleep well?" My brother asked me.

"I did," I said quietly.

"That's good. I haven't had a bad dream in a few days," he told me with a cheeky smile.

"I didn't have one last night," I admitted. Santana smiled and took her bottom lip between her teeth. I cleared my throat. "Did Momma leave?" I asked. Rhys nodded.

"A while ago," he told me. "Said she had to talk to Mr. Wilson." I nodded. Eric Wilson has been our lawyer how years, and sort of a father figure for Rhys.

"That's good," I thought out loud.

"Since she's meeting with him, does that mean we're moving soon?" Rhys asked. I shrugged. "I hope not," he said, "I like it here."

"We have to move some day."

"No we don't. Right Santana?" I smiled at him - he figured if he had enough people on his side, we could live here forever. I, on the other hand, know that it wouldn't be right. Even if I'd like it to be.

"Who knows?" Santana said softly, interrupting my train of thought. "Who am I taking to school today?"

"I need a ride," I said carefully. "And Rhys and Leo do too," I added quickly. She nodded and clicked her tongue.

"No problem," she breathed.

* * *

She looked at me expectantly when we pulled up to the usual place that was a short distance away from the school. I pursed my lips. This feels like some sort of a test. If I get out here, last night didn't happen. If I get out in the school's parking lot with her, last night wasn't just a dream. My hand hovered above my seat belt, then hardly grazed it when I let it rest on my lap.

"I don't feel like walking," I explained shyly. She nodded, and gave me a small, dimpled smile. When she started the car again, I wet my lips and stared straight ahead.

"You've been seen giving me a ride, and now you're about to be seen getting out of my car," she commented.

"Yeah," I answered softly.

"Listen -" we both started. She chuckled, then motioned for me to go on. I cleared my throat. "Listen," I said again, "I don't… I don't know what's…"

"Quinn, let me stop you right there," she said, "I'm not expecting a relationship." I let out a sigh, but I'm not sure if it was out of relief or disappointment. "And whatever you're figuring out about yourself - I know we're not friends _per say _\- but I'm here. Partly because I feel bad for you, and -" That last part caught me off guard.

"Bad for me?" I asked.

"Well yeah," she shrugged. "You thought that you had everything figured out. Marry some guy, maybe Sam, have a few kids, and go to Church every Sunday. Picket fence and all, you'd live the perfect life. Now, you're thinking about me, maybe just girls in general -"

"Stop talking," I said through my teeth.

"And you don't know what to -"

"_Stop!_"

"- do because you might be gay." She finished. I glared straight ahead. "And you have no one to talk to about it, because I'm the only one that knows. So _yeah_, I feel a little bad for you." My chest feels heavy. Something about her saying it all out loud made it real. I looked out the window, and saw that a few people were openly gawking. I suppose seeing Quinn Fabray and Santana Lopez in the same car seems a little odd. I chuckled bitterly, if only they knew. If only they could hear us.

"Thanks for the ride," I mumbled as I slid out of her car.

"Clint is gay," she added just before I closed the door. I opened it again and cocked my head to the side. "Capital G, gay."

"Then why are you dating him?"

She smiled dryly. "Haven't you ever heard of a beard?"

I nodded dumbly, then proceeded to close the door and walk towards the Jocks and Cheerios. I have never been so unsure about something, and It's absolutely terrifying.

* * *

_It's all about progress. I hope that you liked this chapter better than the last. Until next time! (which shouldn't be too far away.)_


	8. Chapter 8

_You're like a party somebody threw me_

_You taste like birthday_

_You look like New Years_

_You're like a big parade through town-_

_ you leave such a mess, but you're so fun._

_(The Party - Regina Spektor)_

* * *

When I approached the steps, Sam was having a serious conversation with some guy. I really don't know his name. He wore a black hoodie and faded jeans.

"Noah took over the table, so we came here," the kid shrugged. "What's the big deal?"

"Here's the deal," Blaine said calmly, "if you and your friends move, you won't get slushied. If you don't, your _kids_ will come out blue. I don't want to do this," he placed the palm of his hand on his chest, then tilted his head sympathetically, "but I'm afraid it can't be stopped. You understand me, right?"

The kid stared at Blaine for a few seconds, fear flashing in his eyes before he blinked. "I do," he said.

Blaine smiled, "Fantastic! Have a nice day." The boy nodded, then he and his friends walked away. Sam noticed me, then wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

"I don't know who they think they are," he said, just loud enough for me to hear. I shrugged. I don't know who I am either. "Quinn, I'm not mad at you, but I hope you know why this is happening."

I nodded.

"Good," he gave me a charming smile, "then you know why you have to stop."

* * *

I was putting my books in my locker when the halls became eerily quiet. Brittany shifted awkwardly on her feet, so I turned to face her. Next to her stood Santana, who had her regular scowl resting on her lips.

I cleared my throat. "What do you want, Lopez?" She arched an eyebrow, as if to ask, '_Really? You wanna play this game?_'

She rested against the locker, and Brittany took it upon herself to leave. I knew that the tension between Santana and I could be felt from miles away. "I got a phone call," she told me.

"Congratulations."

"It was Leo," she added. Leonardo has a cell phone? He's, like, ten.

"Is everything okay?" I asked in a hushed tone, just loud enough for her to hear.

"Rhys got in a fight," she stated nonchalantly. My eyes bulged. Rhys hasn't been in a fight for nearly a year. "Leo says that some guys were making fun of his hair at recess. Leo didn't fight, but he was a big part of it, so they both were sent home."

"Who -"

"Maribel picked them up. She can't stay long, so I'm ditching the rest of my classes," Santana made a small gesture towards the clock, which showed that there were about three hours of school left.

"I'm going too -"

"No you're not," she chuckled. "You've never ditched a class in your life."

"Based on the past few days, there's a first to everything. Besides, it's my brother. I'd do anything for him."

She nodded in understanding. I know that she'd do nearly anything for Leo to smile. "Well, mom just left so I have to go. Are you ready?"

"Sure," I breathed.

* * *

When we entered the house, it seemed empty. The living room TV was off, and all of the chairs at the kitchen table were pushed in. We went up the stairs and checked Leo's room first, but it was empty. I've never been inside of his room before. The walls were painted blue, and there were white clouds near the ceiling. There were several books scattered on his bed, and a green mac laptop sat on his desk. Before I had to to look any further, Santana spun on her heel and started her way to Rhys' room.

We found them sitting on his bed with their legs crossed. I winced and pouted at Rhys' appearance; his hair was messy, hardly held in the pony tail he put it in, his eye looked like it was swelling up, his nose looked bruised, and there was a little red stain on his shirt. When he saw me, he immediately put down the ice pack he was holding and ran to my arms.

"Rhys," I said softly as I hugged him. "Why?" He shrugged. "Talk to me," I urged him. I glanced up at Santana, who was running her hands through Leonardo's hair. Before I could ask them for a moment alone, Leo spoke up.

"It's my fault," he said softly, keeping his eyes trained on the carpet.

"What do you mean?" Santana asked him.

"Someone was making fun… and I didn't care… but Rhys did."

"What happened Leonardo?" She pressed.

Leo scowled and stared at the wall. I glanced at Rhys, whose eyes were red and rimmed with tears. "They said he looked like a little girl," muttered Leo.

"How is it your fault?"

"I should have stopped them. And him. But before… before they were saying, '_defend your boyfriend!_' I-I didn't know what to do."

Santana and I looked at each other, both of us at a loss for words. What am I supposed to say to that -

"They saw us holding hands, so I pushed him away," came Leo's voice. He turned to look at Rhys, a look of desperation in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said.

"I'm not gay," Rhys spat. I stared at him. He said it like it was an insult, like it was wrong. Exactly what he was raised to believe - thanks momma.

"I know!" Leo ran his hand through his hair.

"Okay, hold up," Santana stepped away from Leo and turned to face all of us. "I don't care what you two are, gay, straight, a fucking pony, I could not care less. You are only ten," she looked at Leo, then to Rhys, "and you are eight. So whatever you think you're feeling drop it. You're _babies_ -"

"We're not babies!" Argued Leo.

"You're my baby brother!" Santana yelled louder, "I don't care if you're into boys or girls, the bottom line is, you're too young for any of that!"

I looked at Santana and Leo, shifting my eyes back and forth at the two of them as they stared each other down. I have never seen Santana talk to Leo like this.

"I'm ten years old," Leo stated proudly, puffing out his chest, "and I'm old enough to make my own incisions."

"_Decisions_. Thank you for proving my point," Santana crossed her arms. "You're not going to have a boyfriend or girlfriend until I say so. Bottom line. I'm you're big sister, I'm in charge, and -"

"You're not my mom!" Leo shouted.

"Did you tell mom what you told me?" Santana challenged. Leo shifted awkwardly, then lowered his glare and shook his head. "So that's not really relevant, is it?" Again, Leo shakes his head. "What I say goes. Why don't you go walk around in the back for a little and cool off."

"Thank you," Leo mumbled as he walked out of the room swiftly, tossing a glance at Rhys before leaving without another sound. Santana let out an audible sigh, then turned to face Rhys and I.

"You got this?" Santana asked me as she made a small gesture towards my little brother. I looked down at him hesitantly, and could hardly hold back my wince. I'd forgotten about his black eye. Santana gave up quickly on waiting for my response. "Listen," she started.

"It isn't true. Leo is a boy, and I'm not a girl, so he -"

"Shut up for two minutes," Santana said impatiently. "Same thing I said to Leonardo goes for you. I don't care if you guys have a little crush on each other, or anyone; you're too young to deal with that."

Rhys completely ignored her. Instead, he turned his head and looked at me. "It's wrong. Isn't it, Quinnie? Boys love girls and girls love boys, right Quinnie?" I pursed my lips. Where is he even hearing this? What are they teaching him in school?

I cleared my throat. I could feel Santana's stare. "Girls love boys," I nodded hesitantly. "And girls, sometimes. Boys can love boys," I added quickly.

"But momma said -"

"Momma loves rules. But sometimes, rules don't make any sense." I bit my lip and hoped that was enough.

"Momma says that it's bad for boys to love boys," muttered Rhys.

"Well, if…" I glanced up at Santana, then looked Rhys in the eye, "If I loved a girl, would you love me any less?"

"No," he answered immediately.

"So that settles it," I smiled softly. "It can't be that bad, can it?"

"I guess not…"

"But, it's just like Santana said. You're too young for that," I fixed his hair a little bit, then kissed his forehead. "Why don't you go watch Tv for a little bit?"

When he left, I let out a sigh and rubbed my eyes.

"You handled that really well," Santana stated. I opened my eyes and wondered how I'd forgotten that she was in the room.

"You did too."

She nodded, then clicked her tongue. "Do you think they're actually gay?"

"I think they're close," I said quickly. "But maybe… not _gay._"

"Have you ever wondered why Rhys won't cut his hair?" She asked. I shrugged.

"He said he wants it to look like mine."

* * *

Later that night, I found myself sitting on my bed trying to finish up my Oceanography homework. When I heard two soft knocks, I was pretty sure that it was Rhys just coming to say goodnight. Instead, Santana came shuffling in.

"Hey?" I said, casting a glance upward before giving my attention to my laptop. I adjusted my black rimmed glasses, then looked up at her again when I noticed she was still silent. "Is there something you need?"

She shook her head, and gently sat down on the edge of my bed. "Just wanted to come in here. What are you doing?"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. It couldn't be more obvious - I have two books of the same subject open and resting right next to her. "Oceanography," I mumbled. I arched an eyebrow when she pushed some of my papers aside and laid down, propping herself up on a pillow. Then, to top it all off, she turned on the Tv. "What are you doing?" I asked, unable to mask my smile.

"We both know I would come in here in a few hours anyway," she shrugged. I nodded hesitantly, then went back to doing my homework. "So," she asked after a few minutes of silence. "Is it just me you're attracted to, or are you into -"

"Santana," I rolled my eyes.

"I know that," she smiled cheekily. I nudged her with my foot, so she grabbed it. I laughed as I tried to pull it away, but her grip stayed tight around my ankle. I finally leaned forward and tried to loosen it, but she tilted my chin up and pressed a kiss against my lips - I forgot I even had an ankle. When someone knocked on the door, neither of us heard it. I ignored the quiet creaking of the door being pushed open.

* * *

_I feel like I should explain this random Rhys/ Leo thing. Rhys is inspired by my brother Michael, a lot of the things that he says are based off of things Michael really says. Like everything, basically. They are the same age. Yesterday, one of Michael's friends ran up to him while we were walking to our house, and hugged him. I heard Michael laugh and say "Don't be gay, dude!" _

_I just thought that it would help if I told you guys that little kids (as young as 8, who are pretty aware nowadays) are "exposed" to these kinds of subjects, and use the words freely when they think they are not heard, or are not bad words. I'm not saying that Gay is a bad word, I'm only saying that some parents (like my mom) don't feel comfortable with their kids saying things like that._

_If you have any questions or concerns, let me know, but please don't say it in a rude way (: _

_Anyway! So it looks like someone caught them... I wonder who it is ;) See you soon!_


	9. Chapter 9

_I'm really happy about the reactions for the last chapter! Thank you guys (:_

* * *

_I'm jealous of your cigarette_  
_And all the things you do with it_  
_I'm jealous of your cigarette_  
_And the pleasure that you get from it_  
_And not me_  
_All this time you're talking no_

_(Hawksley Workman - Jealous Of Your Cigarette) _

It was only when someone cleared their throat that I noticed we weren't alone. I pushed her away quickly and took my bottom lip between my teeth. "Rhys," I said, startled. The little boy stood in the frame of my door, his head tilted in confusion. "What are you doing up?" I asked him, and winced when my voice cracked.

"I'm sorry," he uttered. "I'll c-come back later."

"No, it's okay," Santana said awkwardly as she stood up, "I was just leaving."

"Didn't look like it," Rhys crossed his arms. Santana shook her head slowly, an amused smile rested on her lips.

"You spend too much time with Leo," she countered. She's right, that was exactly what Leonardo would have said. He calls it as he sees it. Rhys shifted awkwardly on his feet, and Santana cleared her throat. "Good night," she said.

"Night," I said softly. When she left, Rhys shuffled his feet and made his way to the foot of my bed before plopping down face forward and burying his front into my blanket. He said something, but it was muffled by the comforter. "What was that?" I giggled. He sat up and sighed, then hopped up and onto my bed.

"I'm… tired," he said carefully.

"Then go to sleep," I told him simply.

"No," he shook his head, "not sleepy tired. I'm.. I don't want to think, so I want to go to sleep. My body is tired. My brain is tired. I think it's going to explode," he said. I arched an eyebrow and pulled him closer. "It's like math. I don't want to do the work, so I fall asleep."

I chuckled and shook my head, "Why don't you sleep in here tonight?"

"Was Santana going to sleep in here?" He asked. I shrugged. "Why were you kissing? Aren't you supposed to kiss Sam?" Again, I shrugged. I'd love to tell him the truth, but I'm still figuring that out. "This feels like a secret," he mumbled.

"It is," I said quickly. "Just you and I, okay?"

"And Santana," he added as he laid down and tucked himself in next to me.

"Right," I breathed. "And Santana." I closed my laptop and put my papers and books away, then slid under the covers. He was already asleep by the time I turned the lamp off.

* * *

I carefully moved away from Rhys' embrace and got out of bed. While I walked through the long hallway of Santana's house, the only thing I could hear was the sound of my feet pattering against the wood floor. I made my way down to the kitchen, and smiled when I saw a dim light in the kitchen, then silently prayed that it wasn't Leonardo.

"It's me," Santana said. I let out a sigh of relief, then walked all the way in. "What happened with the kid?"

"He was confused."

"I bet he still is," she mused. I nodded. "I wonder where he gets that from," she smirked as she sauntered towards me. A playful smile formed on my lips.

"What exactly are you insinuating, Santana?" I asked her. She placed her hands on my hips and rested her forehead against mine.

"You know what I think is funny?" She asked instead of answering. "You call me Santana when we're here," she pecked my lips, "and Lopez at school."

"What's your point?" I whispered. She chuckled.

"It's like I'm two different people," she said against my lips. "One is a Black Jack, who you hate. The other is your little secret."

"Am I your's too?" I asked softly.

She shrugged. "It looks like it."

* * *

The next morning, I found Momma in the kitchen with Rhys, Leo, and Santana. Maribel went into work early.

"You may have your car today," was her way of saying '_good morning_.' I nodded in acknowledgement.

"Will you take me to school, Quinnie?" Rhys asked me. I nodded.

"Of course," I said to him.

"I'm heading out," Santana said.

"I'm going with you," Leo sat up.

"No way, kid. You're riding with the Fabrays," she fixed the collar of her leather jacket.

"I'd rather not," he argued. She looked at him with furrowed brows, then shrugged. He grabbed his backpack, then walked away without another word.

"See you at school, Fabray," Santana said as she picked her her notebook and tucked her pen in her pocket.

"See you… Lopez."

* * *

It's been three days since Rhys found out about Santana and I. In those three days, Santana sneaks kisses when we are alone. We don't talk much, seeing as how neither of us know what to say. Rhys and Leonardo don't spend as much time together, but I'm sure they'll get over it. The weather has plummeted, and there's a 75 percent chance of snow tomorrow. One last thing - other girls are attractive. Not _Santana_ attractive, but attractive all the same.

It happened earlier. I gave Brittany a ride home after practice, and as she was walking away, I noticed her legs looked different. Long,as they always did. But alluring. I didn't notice I was staring until she spun on her heel and wiggled her fingers before disappearing behind her front door. I decided that I'd ask Santana about that. I can't think of a time that I thought that Sam's legs were attractive.

"It's because you have eyes, Q," she tells me with a smirk.

"I've always had eyes," I rolled them. I'm laying on her lap, in her room. The door is locked.

"Now you're letting yourself see. It's like when you break up with someone, and suddenly, you see how attractive someone else is," she explained.

"That makes sense," I yawned. My phone buzzed. I was almost tired enough to ask Santana to answer it for me -

"Hello, Quinn Fabray's phone," I heard her say. I sat up in a panic and reached for my phone.

"Santana!" I hissed when she pulled away.

"Right!" She smiled cheekily, "I'll be sure to let her know."

"Oh god," I grumbled, crossing my arms as she hung up and tossed my phone to my lap.

"It was some band called '_Rhyme and Reason of The Falling_.' Aren't they the ones who performed at Breadsticks after the Homecoming game?" She asked.

"Santana, that wasn't funny," I said sternly. "What if that wasn't Jason? What if it was Sam, or Brittany?"

"Then I would have said I stole your phone, calm down," she said nonchalantly. She leaned down and pecked a small trail of kisses down my neck. "No one will find out about us."

"A-Are you okay with that?" I struggled to say. She stopped, and I could feel her breathing.

"Yeah," she said after a few seconds. "Your band can play at the Winter Formal." I nodded. "Is Sam taking you?"

"Mhm. Are you going?" I asked.

"Probably not."

"Shame."

"Would you like me to?" She asked. I thought about it. If she did go, we wouldn't dance together. We'd pretend to hate each other. It would be torture. She'd probably disappear down a hallway, and I'd follow blindly. We'd spend the rest of the night together, having our own little private dance.

"I would," I admitted.

"We'll see."

* * *

"Quinn. Quinn, are you even listening to me?" The voice was fuzzy and familiar. I shook my head slightly to look at who it came from: Sam.

"Mm," I hummed.

"I said, what colors will we be wearing to the Winter Formal?" He asked. If Santana goes, I wonder what colors she'll wear. Maybe Black. Maybe Red. Maybe a black dress with red heels - or the other way around, and a leather jacket. I can see it. I'll be dancing with Sam, looking past his shoulder. I'll see Santana standing in the doorway, watching. Then she'll hold out her hand and say - "Earth to Quinn!"

I jumped and looked at Sam, "I'm sorry, I'm really tired. What were you saying?"

"Forget it," he rolled his eyes. "Just wear something white, I'm wearing my blue button up."

"Sure," I answered softly. He eyed me carefully.

"Are you feeling okay?" He asked. I looked away and towards the entrance of the cafeteria. Noah, Santana, Sebastian, and the rest of the Black Jacks were coming in. They looked like they should be on the cover of Rolling Stone.

"I'm fine," I say as my eyes find Santana's. Her stare is cold, and I don't doubt that mine is too. I've learned to scowl effortlessly. When I look at her, I don't see the same person that I saw a few short weeks ago. I don't see an annoying brat, an irritating pest, or even someone simply unpleasant. It's taking up a lot of energy to restrain myself and not go running up to her to kiss her. Then she winked, breaking me out of my trance.

Sam scoffed. "Who does she think she is?" He asked no one in particular.

"Santana Lopez," I deadpanned.

* * *

The next day, I find myself thinking about my night with Santana. I met her in the kitchen, per usual, and ended up sneaking to her room. I snuck out a little after sunrise. After school, from my place at the top of the pyramid, I see the Black Jacks going to their usual spot: under the bleachers. By the time we're running laps because Sue finds us incompetent, most of them left. Not Santana. When we're doing the last of our crunches, I assume that all but Santana have gone elsewhere. When practice is over, I tell Brittany that I'm not feeling well, and I'd shower at home. When they'd all gone to the locker room, I went towards the bleachers.

I haven't been under here in ages. It used to be clean. It smelled like weed before, but we covered the scent. The Black Jacks don't bother; they like it. It soothes them. There's two couches, a table with three legs and some books holding the fourth corner up, and a dust mini fridge. There's nothing to plug it into, but even if there was, it wouldn't help. Someone snipped the wire.

I found Santana sitting on the larger couch, her feet propped up on the table. Her head is tilted back, and there is a cigarette between her teeth. When she exhales smoke, the cigarette doesn't move. She doesn't jump when I sit on the couch - she doesn't even open her eyes. Instead, she cracks a small smile and takes the cigarette out of her mouth.

"Quinn," she said.

"How did you know it was me?" I asked her. She opened her eyes and squinted at me.

"Your perfume," she answered. I arched an eyebrow.

"I don't drown myself in it," I argued. She shrugged.

"I could recognize it anywhere."

We just sat there for a few minutes. She looked away from me and closed her eyes again, tilting her head back as she had it before. I watched her take slow, long drags. I think she knew I was watching, because she started making little circles with the smoke. I got a little too bored and a little too curious, so I leaned in a little closer.

"Can I try?" I whispered. She raised both of her eyebrows, then opened her eyes.

"Smoking kills your lungs," she said.

"_You_ do it," I pointed.

"And _you_ don't." She said it firmly, and I knew she wouldn't let me. A part of me wanted to argue, and wanted to one-up her like old times. I wanted to take it and make four rings, to better her three. Instead, I nodded and rested my head in the crook of her neck. She wrapped her arm around my shoulders, pulling me in a little closer.

"Why do you do it?" I asked. I saw her furrow her eyebrows. "Smoke," I clarified.

"You're a smart girl, Quinn," she breathed. "Don't ask questions you know the answer to."

"I don't know anything about you," I said honestly.

"That's not true," she put out the cigarette on the arm of the couch, then dusted away the ashes. "You know me better than I know myself."

I placed my hand on her cheek to make her look at me, then took her bottom lip between mine.

"Maybe you shouldn't smoke," I suggested against her lips.

"Don't like the taste?" She asked smugly.

"It's not that. I like it, it makes me want to."

She frowned. "Maybe I'll quit." I moved on top of her, straddling her hips. I wiped my pink lip gloss from the corners her her mouth. Happy. I'm happy when I'm around her. Under the bleachers might not be the most _romantic_ spot, but beggars can't be choosers. I smiled down at her and sighed internally. Since when am _I_ a beggar?

* * *

_I'm editing the next chapter. I love hearing how into this you guys are, huge confidence boost, so thank you (:_

_(Also, I dunno why, but I like putting little songs in the beginning. Kind of like a heads up for whats to come? I just like how it looks. Okay, I'm done, haha.)_

_See you very soon!_


	10. Chapter 10

_You know our love would be tragic_

_So you don't pay it, don't pay it no mind_  
_We live with no lies_  
_Hey, hey_  
_You're my favorite kind of night_

_(Earned It - The Weeknd)_

* * *

We walked to the parking lot, which was deserted aside from the few teachers' cars. Then it started snowing. First, it was only one little cold flake that landed on Santana's head.

"Oh _hell_ no," she mumbled as she looked up at the sky. I smiled. I like it when it snows, but it doesn't look like Santana does. "It'll be a mild storm by the time we get to the house," she says.

"Maybe Rhys and Leo will want to build a snowman," I thought out loud. She looked at me with an amused smile. "What?"

"Nothing," she said as she started walking towards her car, "just that they haven't said a word to each other in days."

"They'll be friends again," I called after her as I opened my car's door, "you just wait!"

* * *

It's Friday night. Well, Saturday morning, if you count 12:04 AM as an early morning. Santana wasn't in the kitchen, and she wasn't in her room. I peeked in Leo's room, but he was sound asleep, alone. I gave up on searching for her. Maybe she and the Black Jacks decided to draw on walls again. That's wait Santana calls it: drawing. Not graffiti. She says that it shouldn't count as graffiti; they're not writing words or tagging, they're just drawing pictures. Doodling, really. I layed in my bed, more than slightly disappointed. Tonight felt special. Tonight, I wanted to talk.

Just as I was about to fall asleep, I heard my phone vibrate on my night stand. I smiled when it read '_Marie'_. It was Santana's idea. Using her middle instead of first name, if anyone saw her calling or texting, it wouldn't look like it was from her. I opened the text, but it wasn't an apology. It was an address, with no explanation.

_(To) Marie_

_Where's that? _

I waited for her reply, which came seconds later.

_(From) Marie_

_I'm waiting. _

I bit my lip. Who am I kidding? It's Friday night, I don't have plans, and my mom fell asleep at around nine. I have nothing to lose. I stood from my bed, and opened the closet. The light came on, and I could see myself in the full body mirror. Grey sweats, a black long sleeved shirt, and a messy ponytail. I eyed the dresses in my closet, and my three uniforms; I own too many dresses. I glanced towards my window, and saw that it was no longer snowing. Then, a small thought brought a smile to my lips. Before I could think twice about it, my feet were guiding me to Santana's room. I picked up the first leather jacket I saw, along with a pair of converse.

"Where are you going?" Rhys' voice made me jump. I spun on my heel and saw him rubbing his eyes.

"What are you doing up?" I questioned.

"Had to use the bathroom."

I nodded, "Okay, well, good night -"

"Where are you going, Quinn?" He asked again. This time, I shrugged.

"I don't know."

"Please be safe," he told me. I nodded.

"I will be." I waited until he walked into the bathroom, then started my way out the front door. The crisp night air nipped at my skin, and I felt alive. I put the adress in my GPS, then drove with all of the windows down.

* * *

I could hear the house from down the block. I should have worn a dress - I looked down at my sweats and sighed. Maybe I have time to turn around and change. Then I remembered; this isn't a Jocks and Cheerios party. If Santana is in there, that means the rest of her friends are. I'll fit in if I wear what I have on. I pulled to the closest space, then got out and put on a stoic expression. If Santana wants me here, she has to have a good reason.

I was let in instantaneously when I knocked on the door. Partly because I just walked in, and the two goofs who opened it were too busy gawking to question me. "Quinn Fabray," someone said in a sing-song voice. I don't know his name, but he probably knows where I can find Santana. I flashed him a quick, sarcastic smile.

"In the flesh," I replied as kindly as I could.

"Member me?" He asked before burping. I almost threw up on the spot - he smells like he took a bath in Jack Daniels. "I'm Evan! We almost made out that one time Freshman year? Member? We were playing spin the bottle! Landed right next to me, on that guy -" he burped.

"Right!" I stretched out the word, and tried to not make it completely obvious that I was utterly disgusted. "Do you know where I can find Santana?"

"San? Ah, sure. Course, she's up in the pool room," he pointed at the ceiling, and I rolled my eyes. I didn't bother with thanking him, instead I just searched for a flight of stairs. When I couldn't find one, I sighed and pulled out my phone.

_(To) Marie_

_I'm here, where are you? _

A minute later, she responds.

_(From) Marie_

_Come find me. _

_(To) Marie_

_This isn't funny, tell me where you are. _

When she didn't respond as quickly as she usually does, I called her. She didn't answer, but I got a response.

_(From) Marie_

_No cheating. _

_(To) Marie_

_Seriously, I'll go home. _

No response.

_(To) Marie_

_Santana, I will. _

…

"Stop blowing up my phone, will you?" A sultry voice said from behind me. Familiar arms wrapped around my waist, and I felt her chin rest on my shoulder.

"You're such an asshole," I chuckled. I felt her shrug.

"You wouldn't have found me, hm?" Her words were slurred together. It's weird, even drunk she is adorable.

"I guess we'll never find out," I said smoothly.

"You're wearing my jacket," she commented. She kissed my neck, and I tensed. The voices around us and music blasting reminded me that we weren't alone. "They're all too drunk or high to remember," she said in my ear. Slowly, I nodded.

"Still," I said, half-heartedly shrugging her off. She sighed and let go of him, but then took my hand in hers.

Then she asks, "Want to go some place quiet?"

I looked at her eyes, darker than usual. "Yeah," I nodded.

* * *

I'm not sure who's house this is, but their yard is beautiful. Santana gave me a red cup on the way out here, and I'm not sure what was in it. I trust her. I downed it without a second thought, and tossed the cup in a random direction. She smiled goofily at me, and I decided right there that I'd do about anything to see that smile.

"Come on," she giggled, tightening her grip on my hand as we ran further away from the people, and deeper into the yard. There were a few trees, and in this light (hardly any if you don't count the flashlight of Santana's phone), it looks like we're exploring a forest. She stops and turns proudly, but doesn't give me time to ask the question. Instead, she lets go of my hand and points upward while tilting her phone's light up.

"A tree house," I said. She nodded.

"Noah and I built it. Well, he did, I picked the furniture. Wanna see?" She asked.

"I'd like that."

She guided me to the ladder, and climbed on just under me. "Watch your footing," she says. When we're at the top, she presses a button somewhere, and I can finally see.

"It's really nice," I say while looking around. She smiles bashfully. I've never seen that smile on her before. Her cheeks are tinted pink, her head slightly bowed. It might be my favorite. It didn't last long before it was replaced by a smirk, which sent chills down my back. She tugged my hand and walked us to a mattress on the floor. It looked like there were about three king sized mattresses, and a black blanket on top. I sat first, and she propped herself on my lap, pressing her lips against mine gently. I could hardly feel it. She tastes like alcohol and drugs; she tastes amazing.

She started to explore my mouth with her tongue, and I loved the little noises she was making. I railed my hands up and down her back, but she seemed to get fed up with me because she sat back angrily and roughly pulled her shirt up and off, tossing it to a random place. I stared at her for a second. Her black bra, her toned stomach, her _everything_. Right now, she's everything. I feel her sliding off my jacket, and I can hardly think when I feel her taking off my shirt too. Everything is blurred together, but I know I'm sober now. When she presses herself against me, I'm not sure if it's her moan or mine.

"I've never done this with a girl before," she rasped in my ear. I don't answer, she knows I haven't either. Instead I pull back slightly and look into her eyes. They're swirling with fascination, desperation - they are beautiful. "I never thought it would be with you."

"I -" I cut myself off. I didn't know what to say. I never thought I'd be in this position either. Never in a million lifetimes. This time, when we kiss, it's passionate. It's going somewhere this time, we can both feel it. Hell, we're shirtless. We can _see_ that it's going somewhere.

"Lopez!" A deep voice shouted. She jumped off of me and scrambled to the floor in search of her shirt most likely. A deep panic formed in my stomach as I look towards the person who called her.

I grabbed my jacket and put it on, zipping it up quickly without a second thought.

"Whataya want Sebs?" Santana slurred. It was exaggerated, she was acting drunker than she really was. Smart move, I'll give her that. I followed her lead and let out a little giggle.

"Why do girls always act gay when they're drunk?" Sebastian laughed, clearly high on something. I doubt it's life.

"Whar' you talkin' about? Me and _Seth_ were getting our mack on," she said almost angrily. Sebastian squinted at me, and I got nervous.

"I'm _allowed_ to kiss my boyfriend," I added for good measure. He shrugged.

"You do kinda look like Seth. You guys related?" He asked. I nearly broke character. To be related to Seth Brooks… it makes me want to gag. That would murder my reputation. Instead, I merely shrugged and pretended to think about it.

"Probably," I giggled.

"Anyways, Noah just got arrested -"

"What?" Santana yelled.

"Keep it _down_!" Hissed Sebastian. Santana shot daggers with her eyes. "The cops showed up. He and a few others got busted for the coke and mary J down stairs. They didn't run fast enough."

"And _you_ did?"

"I didn't snort it. I don't do that," he said defensively.

"Are the cops still down there?" Santana asked nervously. Then it hit me. Santana was with Noah before I showed up. That could have easily been her.

"They should be gone in about 20," he said. "We should probably turn off the light, Puck probably has a few stashes up here." Santana nodded in agreement. When Sebastian clicked the light off, Santana wrapped her arms around me. All I could think was: She could have been arrested.

* * *

We spent the night in that treehouse. I woke up first, and saw that Sebastian was sleeping on the floor beside us. Maybe he isn't such a bad guy. I untangled myself from Santana's arms and started to gently shake her awake.

"Ten more minutes," she mumbled. I smiled and shook her again, this time pecking my lips against her neck. "Quinn?"

"Mhm," I hummed.

"Where are we?" she asked sleepily.

"Puckerman's treehouse." She opened her eyes and sat up slowly, with her right hand she rubbed her temple.

"I brought you here?" She asked.

"Sort of."

"What time is it?"

I pulled out my phone. It was a little past 10. "We should get out of here before your friend wakes up."

"I'll get my car later. Can I ride with you?"

I smiled. I was hoping she'd ask that.

* * *

She fell asleep during the ride back to the house. I noticed that Maribel's car was there, which meant we would face some questions when we got in - if we went in at all.

"San?" I said. I saw her lips twitch and I smiled. She's awake. I kissed her softly, but when I pulled back her lips followed me. "Santana," I chuckled. She reluctantly opened her eyes and sat back in her seat.

"I only remember you," she stated sleepily.

"What?" I giggled.

"Last night," she continued, "I only remember your eyes and your hair. The treehouse, too."

"Yeah?"

"Last night… were we going to..?"

I shrugged. "I thought so."

"Fucking Sebastian."

* * *

The two little boys that we saw in the living room were not Rhys and Leonardo. It was Rhys and Maris, a friend from school.

"Hey Rhys," I smiled. He looked up from their game of _'Sorry'_ and grinned.

"You're home!" He said happily. "Did you have a good time?"

Santana looked at me quizzingly. She probably thought I told him I was leaving last night. "I did," I told him.

"That's good," he said approvingly before giving his attention back to the game.

"Who are you?" Santana asked with furrowed eyebrows. Maris looked up at her and pushed his black hair out of his face and grinned kindly.

"Maris," he told her.

"Where's Leo?"

"Upstairs, I think," Rhys said nonchalantly.

"He didn't want to play?"

He looked up at her, his stare was cold. "No, he didn't."

Her eyebrows raised, but she didn't say another word. Instead, she took my hand and guided me upstairs. Leonardo's bedroom door was closed, and when she tapped on it there was no answer. She cracked it open, and he was laying down sound asleep.

"It's fucking stupid," Santana mumbled after she closed the door.

"What is?"

She took my hand again. "Their problems are bigger than they are. They're babies and they are going through the same thing that - " she shook her head.

"We are," I finished for her. She pursed her lips.

* * *

_Just a filler chapter honestly, but I'm working on the next. Lets just say, there's a little angst. Just a heads up. As always, I loved reading what you guys thought of the last chapter :)_

_More about the Leo/ Rhys thing - I'm not sure where I'm going with it yet, but I know that they are not going to date or anything. Besties though, that's always cool, right? haha. _

_Until next time... _


	11. Chapter 11

**_It's been a while. I have no excuses, other than I lost track of where exactly I want this story to go. But, you don't wanna hear all that. So, on with the story. (My apologies if you have to reread any of the past chapters- I did too.)_**

* * *

When she closed the door behind us, she crossed her arms and looked at me expectantly.

"Yes?" I chuckled.

"Are you planning on keeping _my_ jacket?"

I looked down at what I was wearing and smirked. "I like it," I shrugged.

"Give it back," she said in a playful, but firm way. I shook my head.

"No way, it looks better on me," I straightened the collar. She arched an eyebrow.

"I think it'll look better when you take it off."

"Well, I think -" my hand slipped in the pocket. How did I not notice this last night? I slowly took the small box out, and opened it. Inside, there were about five cigarettes. A few looked familiar, orange and white. Two of them had brown paper.

"Quinn... "

I gave her a cheeky grin, and placed one of the brown ones between my teeth. "Tastes bland," I said in a faux bored tone.

"Because it's not lit -"

"Fix that." I tossed the box to her bed and crossed my arms. She mimicked my stance and eyed me.

"You look really badass, Fabray."

"Yeah?" I took the cigarette between my index and middle finger, then made an 'o' shape with my mouth and pretended to puff out smoke.

"Yeah," she nodded slowly as she approached me. She held eye contact. Instead of taking the cigarette, she pulled a lighter out of her own jacket. I closed my eyes when I saw the flame. She's actually going to do it. I'm going to smoke. Suddenly, there was nothing between my teeth. "Do you even know what this is?" She asked me. I opened my eyes and saw her holding it up for me to see.

"Yes?"

"It's not a cigarette, Q. It's weed." She put it between her lips and continued, "Brown wrapper, Mary inside."

I nodded, but still didn't really… isn't it all the same thing? She lit it and took a step closer. She bowed her head and exhaled, then looked up at me. "Hypocrite." She rolled her eyes, then lit it again. This time, she didn't breathe the smoke out. She took my chin in her hand and kissed me, with my lips parted slightly, I could taste and feel the smoke.

"Happy, Princess?" She asked, a faint scowl on her lips. I nodded.

"Mhm." She started to unzip the jacket, and we both saw that I'd left my shirt in Noah's treehouse. Her eyes widened, I blushed. I wrapped my arms around her neck and rested my forehead against hers, smiling like an idiot. Have I ever felt this happy?

"Good. Because that's never happening again."

"You're never going to kiss me?"

"I will… just without smoke. I don't want you doing that."

"Santana, I made sandwhi - oh my God!"

Seriously? Again? Does anyone know how to knock and wait? I quickly zipped up the jacket and turned to face Maribel. I don't know how we're getting out of this one.

She stared at us and blinked, then looked down at the floor and cleared her throat. "I made lunch. It's on the counter."

"Thanks mom," Santana smiled nervously. She looked more embarrassed than worried. I, on the other hand, look like I'm seconds away from having a panic attack. I am. Maribel nodded at her, gave me a small smile, then walked out like nothing happened.

"What the hell was that?"

Santana shrugged. "My mom knows."

"Knows what?" I hissed.

"Not about us," she said as she turned and started walking towards her bed. "Just me."

"If she knows then why were you even considering going to those camps?" I asked tentatively.

"Just because she's okay with it, doesn't mean my dad is. I need my father, Quinn. And I thought I said I didn't want to talk about that -"

"You don't want to talk about _anything_," I said.

"So? What's wrong with that? Neither do you." She sat down and glared at me. I bit my lip.

"What would there be to talk about? If you did… talk to Maribel about us."

She cracked a small smile, then held out her hand. I took it and sat beside her. "I'd tell her about how amazing you are. How talented. How beautiful - but I doubt she doesn't know that part."

"Sap," I teased. She playfully shoved me. I was about to kiss her, but her phone started vibrating. Oh, perfect timing. She gave me an apologetic smile, then pulled out her phone.

"What do you want, Puckerman?" Her facial expression dropped. "Yeah, I can hold it. Sure. Yeah, the wall. I'll be there in ten."

"What was that?" I asked when she hung up.

"Noah is paranoid because of last night, so I told him I'd hold his things until everything settles down -"

"Are you insane?" I uttered. "Santana, no. I can't let you do that, what if they search here? What if _you_ get arrested?"

For a split second, she looked worried. But, like she does with everything else, she shrugged it off. "Wouldn't be the first time."

"Santana, I'm not going to beg you."

"Quinn, I'm not asking you to," she said casually.

"Don't be _fucking stupid_, San," I said, exasperated. She chuckled darkly, then slid off the bed and crouched down in front of me.

"You knew who I was before all of our shit happened. Don't expect anything different." She kissed my knuckles, then stood up straight. "Besides, it's not like I'm selling it." She walked towards the door, but then stopped. Over her shoulder, she said, "Coming?"

"No."

"I rode with you -"

"Figure it out, Santana." I sighed.

"Fine. I will." And as if that wasn't bad enough, before closing the door behind herself, she said, "And for a hot minute there, I thought I could count on you."

"Not with this!" I yelled out. I shook my head.

* * *

The only thing that is heard at the dinner table tonight is the sound of forks clinking against plates. Santana still isn't back. Leo and Rhys still aren't talking. Maribel keeps eyeing me, and it's making me wish the floor would open up and swallow me whole.

"So, where is Santana?" Mom asked Maribel. Santana's mother shrugged and nodded towards me.

"This one should know better than I," she said.

"She went to her friends house," I said softly.

"What friend?" Asked Maribel.

"Noah Puckerman," I hoped that telling the truth was the right answer.

"The one with the mohawk?" Leo asked. I nodded. "I like him. Once, he took me to the movies."

"What did you see?" I asked worriedly. If Noah Puckerman is taking a 10 year old to the movies, nothing good would come of it.

"_Despicable Me_," he smiled. "It was funny, we both wore beanies and black hoodies, and ran into the theatre. We even sat all the way in the front. It hurt my neck because we had to look up the whole time, but it was so worth it."

"That sounds fun," Rhys perked up. Leo grinned at him.

"It was."

"Maybe I can take you two to the movies. That movie '_Home'_ is coming out soon, are either of you interested?" I asked.

"Yes!" They said simultaneously. I knew it wouldn't take long to get them to be friends again. They just needed a little push. As if on cue, Santana came from downstairs.

"When did you get here?" Maribel asked her. She shrugged.

"A few minutes ago," she sat down at her seat across from mine and started pushing her food around her plate. "Had to use the bathroom," she explained. I scoffed. Sure, if that's what they call '_hiding drugs in your room_'. "Problem, Quinn?"

"None at all," I gave her my signature cheerio smile; fake as hell.

"Good," she nearly spat, not even bothering to return the smile. I couldn't shake that feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was heavy. Something about her glaring at me, not the fake glare at school, but it's real this time. It's cold. It hurts.

"Quinnie," mom said, interrupting our little staring match.

"Yes, Mother?" I asked through my teeth.

"I'm expecting you at church tomorrow -"

"Momma -"

"No excuses."

"But," I glanced at Santana then shook my head, "I have plans with Samuel."

"The blonde boy?"

"Yes."

She thought about it for a few seconds, then shook her head. "They can wait until after service."

I let out a dramatic sigh, causing my mother to roll her eyes. I don't have plans with Sam, but it was worth a try.

"Will you be joining us as well, Santanita?" Maribel asked her daughter.

"I don't think so, mom," Santana says to her. Maribel nods, a look of understanding on her face. "Night."

* * *

Santana didn't come to my room It felt weird. I wanted her to. I wanted her to apologize, then I'd apologize, and then we'd kiss and everything would be okay again. Only, that didn't happen, because that's not how this goes. Nothing about this is _okay_. I thought about all the things I'd done because I found it incredibly attractive in a bad ass kind of way when she did them, and I grew disgusted with myself. Smoking, graffiti, skipping class- all things that could seriously mess up my future. That was Santana's thing, Santana's life. Not mine.

I wiped tears angrily away from my cheeks, because I wasn't supposed to cry. None of this was supposed to happen. I strayed from who I really am, and that will never happen again. I turned to check the time on my alarm clock- it was a little past three. Just to be safe, and slid out of bed and turned the lock on my bedroom door. I have to train myself to get Santana out of my system. If that means repeating '_She's no good for me_' in my head until I go insane, then so be it. It'll never be stable between us. I can't give her what she wants ultimately, and she can't give me what I want. This will only end with someone hurting. But as I wipe away more tears and groaned into my pillow, I realized that: that person would be me. Always me.

* * *

I was up at seven. You know those few seconds in the morning where you can't remember anything? It's like your mind is wrapped up in a fluffy cloud so your vision is kind of blurry, and you don't remember any of your problems, so that must mean you don't have any? That's my favorite part of the morning. But then, it's over. The memories speed back into your mind, and it physically hurts. Well, that's exactly what is was like waking up this morning. Blissful seconds of oblivion, then boom! It doesn't matter though. Because from now on, Santana Lopez is exactly what she was before- nothing to me.

At least, that's what I thought until I opened my bedroom door and she was standing there with a plate of pancakes and strawberries with a glass of orange juice. She was smiling so nervously and looked incredibly adorable in her pajamas- all negative thoughts about her went flying out the window. The drugs are in her room. There's probably drugs in her system. She's no good. She's no good, she's no-

"Morning Quinn," she said tentatively. I (metaphorically, of course) jumped out the window and grabbed all of my negative thoughts.

"Good morning," I said formally. She held out the tray, so I took it. "Thanks." I took a step back, and closed the door with my foot. A little harsh, I know. But it's exactly what I'd have done just a few short weeks ago. And she would have done it to me too. We just have to get back to that.

I put the tray on top of my- no, not my. None of the furniture in this house belongs to me. This isn't home. I put it on the dresser. I probably won't be eating it. There's a weird feeling in my stomach- I don't know if I want to cry or scream or maybe both, but I've lost my appetite.

* * *

_**Before I say anything else, lemme just remind you: QUINNTANA ENDGAME. Forever &amp; always. Plus, we all know that our good girl can't resist the advances of Santana. She's still coming to terms with who she is and what she wants, but she'll never really shake Santana. I'll try my bestest to update soon. Thanks for sticking to this story (:**_

_**If you have any ideas, drop a review or PM me. If you hate it, please be gentle, I'm still learning. If you love it, please let me know. Alright, until next time! (if you have any questions, you know the deal. Ok. Bye. For real this time.)**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**It's short, I'm sorry. But I just couldn't leave it like it ended the last chapter. And this is better than me leaving for a few months, isn't it? I hope so. Sorry about grammar mistakes! I don't have an excuse, I'm flawed. Grammatically. Any way, on with the story... (I listened to Heart Beat, Childish Gambino while writing some of this.)**_

_We were never friends, and you know that. _

* * *

Pretty dresses and pretty crowns, pretty little skirts, and pretty little smiles. That's how it's always been for me. Pretty. And when I look at myself in the mirror, wearing this pretty light green dress, it kind of makes me want to barf. I'm pretty. I've been pretty for a few years now, and it's very likely that I always will be. But I'm going to be sick, and ruin this pretty little dress.

Rhys's tie matches my dress, and we look sickeningly adorable. When I straighten it for him, Leo waits just a few feet away. They run off when I'm done, because they've already eaten their breakfast. Already, it feels like it used to. An old familiar state settles in; I'm not speaking with Santana because we're not friends, and Rhys acts like he's Leo's brother because they are best friends.

"You look pretty," I hear Santana say. I get that feeling in my stomach again, and I don't even bother to turn around to face her.

"I'm going to be sick," I mumbled as I ran to the bathroom.

* * *

I sat on the bathroom floor with a disgusting taste in my mouth, and a gross little stain on my dress. Perfect. Everything about this is just picture perfect. I'm sitting with my knees to my chest, hoping that the puking fest is over, when I hear three knocks on the door. Thinking that it's probably just my mom, I say, "Come in."

"Hey, everyone just left- Quinn, are you okay?" Santana let herself in and sat next to me. "I didn't know you'd actually be sick. Did you eat something weird? Do you have a fever? Is it just your stomach-"

"Could you please not do that?" I groaned. All of her questions were way too much for me to handle.

Then, she did something unexpected. She chuckled. I glared at her, and she put her hands up in defense. "I'm sorry, it's just… it smells _terrible_ in here."

"What were you expecting?" I rolled my eyes.

"I dunno. Not this," she chuckled again.

"I'm glad you find this funny," I stood up as abruptly as I could, but the room started spinning.

"Whoa there. Let me help you-"

I stepped away and swallowed, as if that would help me find my balance. To my luck, it did. "No, I'll manage," I said.

"Well, maybe since neither of us have plans today, we can-"

"Santana, let me stop you right there. Apparently, I haven't been obvious enough. I don't want to be your friend. Not now, not two weeks from now, not ever." I pinched the bridge of my nose. "And I don't know what came over me before, but please believe me, it's gone now."

For a second, pure and utter hurt flashed on her face. But then, she was smiling. No, not smiling. Smirking. "Oh, Q," she said as she stepped closer to me. I retreated, but not very far. She has me with my back pressed to the wall. "We've never been friends. You and I both know that it's been so much more than that," when she put her hand to my side, I flinched. Only to see that she was grasping the door handle. "Excuse me," she said with a bored tone.

I slowly stepped out of the way, and my throat was suddenly very dry. Once she was out, I almost let out a sigh of relief. But then, she said, "And one more thing. We both know that I won't just give up like that. I'm a spoiled kid, Quinnie. I always get what I want."

She left me alone in the bathroom. She left me alone, and wanting her to stay with me, and she knows it. I hate her, I hate her, I hate that I want her.

* * *

The timing for this is just fantastic. Mom came home yesterday as saw that I was noticeably pale, and looked like I was on the verge of getting sick every two or three steps I took. She took my temperature, and I have a fever. So now, I'm on bedrest. I'm not particularly worried about school, because I'm not planning on missing too much. I know that Brittany will try her best with the _Cheerios! _. It's Santana. As always. I know that she doesn't mind missing school, especially if she has an excuse. Poor Quinn just has to be taken care of. As I expected, she ditched her last class, study hall, to be by my side. I have to admit, it's sweet.

"I made you some soup," she said as she came into my room, tray in hand. I scrunched up my nose. "I'm guessing you're not hungry?"

"I can't even drink water," I admitted. I didn't mean to whine, but the amused expression on her face told me that I had anyway.

"Aw," she cooed, almost sarcastically, "well, you have to eat sometime."

"I'll puke all over your blanket," I mumbled.

"My? Quinn, this is your bed, not mine."

I shook my head softly, so the room wouldn't go spinning again. "This isn't my bed. My bed is charred in a dumpster somewhere."

"I get that you're mad about the Puck thing and all, but you shouldn't be. It's just for a few days-"

"I don't care about Noah," I hissed. My stomach turned. "I don't care about any of your friends. But I care about you, even though I really don't want to. But you make all of these stupid decisions and one day, you're going to seriously end up hu-hurt- hurl!" I got out of bed as quickly as possible.

"I'm going to end up hurl?"

"I'm going to-" I went into the bathroom, followed by Santana. She stood there until I was finished, staring at the wall intently. "You didn't have to come in here," I muttered, my voice has a rasp to it and my throat is incredibly sore.

"Well you go admitting all your feelings, then throw up right before you finish," she jested. "Look Quinn," she sat down on the tiles; not too far, but not close either.

"I care about you. I've made that clear. But… the things that I'm doing with my life have nothing to do with you," she told me. "To you, it just looks like I'm making a bunch of bad choices. I can see that. You know why?"

I shook my head.

"Because I'm actually trying to figure out how you view the world. But you can't be selfish and not do the same thing."

"Selfish?" I glared lazily.

"Yes," she chuckled, "selfish. Try to walk a mile in my shoes. You don't know what's happened to me, you don't know the war that I fight every single day in my mind. Maybe that's why I'm so mad all the time- I dunno. All I know is that I'm not mad in I'm high, or drunk. Or with you."

"Santana-"

"The light feeling is all I want. When it feels like all my problems are gone, and nothing really matters- I crave that. But you wouldn't know. Because all you do is get mad at me for trying to cope," she said more to herself than to me. Then, she looked at me. "I like being with you. But I can't just shake who I am. And you can't just stomp your foot and expect me to do what you say."

"I just don't want you to get hurt," I said softly.

"You don't have to worry about me," she smiled gently. Then, she took a breath, and drummed her hands on her lap. "Alright, lets get you back to bed, sicko." I rolled my eyes and she helped me up slowly. I gestured that I could walk by myself, but she still stayed close. "I'm getting you a bucket and some water. Whatever's going on obviously has to get washed out."

"Thank you, Santana," I said greatfully. Once I was back in bed, she left to get the things. She's bad for me, but she's good for me. I don't think the bad outweighs the good, or the other way around. I think that change is possible. Just, maybe, not right now.

When she came back, I noticed her arched eyebrow. "What?" I asked curiously.

"Did you get your flu shot?"

"I think."

She rolled her eyes. "This'll be fun," she muttered as she sat on the foot of my bed. She handed my the water bottle. I played with the cap- water has never looked more unappealing. "You know, if you weren't sick, I'd probably try to kiss you."

"I wouldn't let you," I said quickly.

She scoffed. "Keep telling yourself that." She rose from the bed. "The boys are going to be out soon. I'm picking them up today."

"Okay," I nodded.

"Right." It looked like she wanted to say more, but she didn't. And I didn't press her. When she was about to close the door behind her, I stopped holding my tongue.

"Santana," I said. She turned to look at me. "I do care. I worry about you," I admitted. She sighed.

"I know you do."

* * *

_**I really liked the feedback and PMs from the last chapters, so thank you guys. **_

_**Also, I'm still Beta hunting, but I honestly don't know how that works, so if you do, please help. **_

_**BUT guys look, they talked about their feelings! Aww. **_

_**How would you guys feel about a Santana's POV chapter (or chapters)? Or should I just keep it at Quinn's? **_

_**Alright, I'm done. See you soon! (Wait, one last thing, if you guys have any fic recommendations, tell me! If it's your's or just one of your favorites, I'm looking for a new one to read.) (Okay. Bye. For real this time.) **_


	13. Chapter 13

_**Hey! Thank you for all of the fic recommendations guys, I'm literally going to read them all. **_

_**The chapter is for you guys, but I updated tonight because of the reviewer who asked me to. I was planning on tomorrow. Good thing I have another chapter written...So, guest, this ones for you. c:**_

* * *

_I'm yearning to get out_

I'm starting to hate this room with a passion. My nose wont stop running, which is gross, and the little trash can Santana gave me is already full. I hate being sick. Santana has taken it upon herself to be my nurse. My mom doesn't want to catch what I have, her words, not mine, and Rhys was vaccinated yesterday after school. Now, it's Wednesday, and I'm bored and sick and tired and sore and it's hot. And God, would it kill someone to please bring me some chocolate? I haven't eaten a solid food in three days, but last night I had a dream. About chocolate.

I told that to Brittany because she called to see how I'm doing, and her response was, "_Did you know that by the year 2020, chocolate will be scarce?_" I pulled my phone away from my face, and eyed the screen oddly.

"No, B, I didn't know. 2020 will be a terrible year," I mumbled.

"_Right? I mean, with climate change, and some places drowning and others basically on fire-_"

"Britt. Where are you getting all of this from?" I asked. She didn't answer, so I'm assuming she just shrugged.

"_Maybe I could bring you some chocolate soup, since you're sick. But, you still haven't told me where you're staying._"

"I told you, it's top secret information."

"_Is your phone bugged? Can they hear you_?"

I smiled. "No, B. No one bugged my phone. I just can't tell you where I am for a little while."

"_Your loss_," she said bluntly. I chuckled. I blew my nose, much to Brittany's displeasure. "_Feel better soon, Q._"

"I'll try," I grumbled. Then I hung up. This flu thing is getting old, very quickly. The room started spinning again, so I squeezed my eyes shut. A few minutes later, I blinked a few times so make the blurriness go away. My throat doesn't hurt. My stomach is turning. My nose isn't running. Since when does it all go away at once?

"Look who's awake," Santana sauntered into my room without knocking.

"S-santana, aren't you supposed to be-"

"Sh," she smirked. I swallowed. As she came closer, it seemed as if the rest of the room was getting darker, but she seemed to glow. I noticed that she was wearing the nurse outfit, similar to the one I had to wear when I volunteered at the hospital last year.

"Where'd you get that?" I muttered. She shrugged, then rested the back of her palm on my forehead.

"Someone's feeling better," she smiled.

"I-it just went away," I stuttered.

"Well, good. That means I can do this." In one swift movement, she was straddling my hips.

"I don't think-"

"Don't think," Santana said against my lips. So I stopped. I let her press her mouth against mine, and soon, we were moving in rhythm. I could feel her hips moving on my, back and forth.

"No thinking," I mumbled.

She chuckled. "That's right," she said before slipping her tongue in my mouth. A few seconds later, she pulled away. I almost complained, but she kissed between my collar bones. Then down my bare stomach. Then she hovered over my center, and stared at me deviously through her eyelashes. "I heard you wanted some chocolate?"

"San," I urged, bucking my hips up. She giggled.

"I'm home, sicko," she said.

"What?"

I heard three knocks and jumped, but she didn't even flinch. "How are you feeling?" She asked.

"Santana," I whined.

"Wake up," she pressed a kiss to my center.

"I'm up," I insisted. Another kiss. "Santana," I moaned.

"Wake up, Quinn," I felt someone shake me. Slowly, I blinked and opened my eyes. _Holy shit. "_I'm home."

"S-Santana?" My eyes widened.

She smirked. "Were you dreaming about me?"

"N-no no no. I was… I was awake," I rubbed my head. The nurse outfit was gone, and replaced by a leather jacket and tight jeans. Of course. It was a dream.

"Uh huh," she smiled. She pressed the back of her palm on my forehead, just like she had in the dream. "Your fever's going down. Do you feel any better?"

"A little," I mumbled, willing my cheeks to not redden.

"Well, whatever happened in that dream must have helped," she raised her eyebrows. There's no way in _Hell_ that I'm telling her. She's bad for me, I haven't forgotten. I just, maybe, forgot how attractive 'bad for me' can look.

"Maybe," I said softly.

"It's too bad, really. Why dream it when you could have the real thing?"

I gapped. She always managed to do that to me- make me speechless.

"I hope dream me was satisfying," she continued. Two could play this game.

"Actually, you didn't finish," I told her. I regretted it immediately. I bit my lip, and hoped that would keep me from embarrassing myself any more than I already have.

"Don't test me, Q," she said. My stomach turned again, but I don't think it was from being sick.

* * *

"Well, look who decided to join us," Momma said as I sat down at the dinner table.

"I haven't been hungry," I mumbled.

"She's had the flu," Santana added.

"Nonsense, you had your shots."

"Then I don't know what happened, Mother. I'm sorry for being sick," I said as respectfully as I could.

"It's alright," she waved me off. Santana caught my eye, and her eyebrows were scrunched up. I shrugged. "Have you been getting your school work done?"

"Santana brings it for me," I told her.

"That's not answering."

"Momma, I was a little worried that I might get sick all over my papers. Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

"Good," she smiled.

"Santana, can Puck come over?" Leo asked. My eyes widened. Why. Why would Noah Puckerman need to be here?

"Maybe. What's up?" Santana asked.

"Well, I have to put together a race car in my class, and Pucks good with stuff like that. So I was thinking, he could help me."

"We'll see," Santana winked. No we won't.

* * *

Santana sat on the foot of my bed with her legs crossed, much like she had before we got too… intimate. She was going over the lesson from today's World History class.

"So, what _exactly_ happened in your dream?" She asked. I nearly choked on my water. I put the glass down and glared at her.

"Nothing," I said sternly.

"Oh, yeah, it definitely sounded like nothing," she cleared her throat dramatically, "_Ohh, Santana. I'm up, ooh Santana!" _

"Shut up!" I groaned.

"I'm just curious," she shrugged. "Can I guess?"

"No," I shook my head. Of course, she ignored me.

"Was it like when we were in the treehouse?" I didn't respond. "Come on, Fabray. Humor me."

"No, Santana, it wasn't. Now, just tell me what happened today. You never told me what the date was for the Manhattan Project-"

"My lips are sealed."

"This isn't funny."

"No, it's not," she said with a straight face. Then she cracked a smile. "It's hilarious."

"Just, please, help me?"

"Fine. For every question you answer, I'll tell you a fact from today's lesson."

"I don't think that-"

"Don't think about it," the fact that she said almost exactly what she said in my dream sent shivers down my back. "Just go with it."

"...Okay," I said reluctantly. She gave me a cheeky smile, then moved a little closer.

"Alright, so was it normal, or was it like, kinky?" She asked. I scoffed.

"It wasn't kinky." The nurse outfit. "But it wasn't… normal?"

"So it was realistic, with a twist?"

"What are you trying to pull here?" I crossed my arms. Her smile gave it all away. She was trying to get me to think about it. In all honesty, she didn't have to try. I've been thinking about it since I woke up- but I won't tell her that.

"1939," she told me.

I wrote it down. "Alright, now, what was the first nuclear bomb called again?"

"Uh uh, it's my turn." Then, her eyes lit up. "Was I tutoring you?" She asked.

I bit my lip and shook my head. I don't like where this is going.

"Was I your teacher?" She asked.

"No. Now answer my question."

"I'm getting close," she sung. Then she looked down at her notebook. "Little Boy was dropped on Nagasaki in August, 1945."

"Got it," I said.

"So it wasn't a student teacher fantasy. Was it like, a doctor patient type thing then?" I didn't answer, and that was all the answer she needed. "Oh my God," she laughed.

"Nurse," I corrected.

"I could do that," her voice was dangerously low.

"I… I don't think that'll be necessary," my voice shook. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep giving her hope. We can't be together. "Look, Santana," I closed my notebook, "thank you for helping me.. but I think we can be done for the night."

She nodded. "You can just borrow my notebook."

"You're a really good friend, Santana," I told her. She scrunched up her nose, and I couldn't help but think it was adorable.

"I'm not your friend, Quinn," she said. Before I could react, she'd moved to be right in front me, and leaned in to kiss me. For a few seconds, I gave in. I don't know if it was because of the dream, or because I really wanted to. No, I do know. It's both. When she pulled away to breath, I pursed my lips. She tried to kiss me again, but I turned my head at the last second. She pressed her lips firmly against my cheek, then rested her forehead against the side of my head. "You want me just as much as I want you. One fight isn't going to change that," she said softly.

When I didn't speak, she slowly slid out of my bed, then room, leaving her notebook behind.

* * *

"Quinn Fabray! Quinn, is it true you're avoiding school because you couldn't figure out a way to tell Sam Evans that you don't want to be his date to the dance?" JBI shoved his stupid microphone in my face, but I shoved it away.

"I was sick," I said simply. "No further comments."

_Life inside the music box ain't easy, the mallets hit the gears are always turning_

_and everyone inside the mechanism _

_is yearning _

_to get out_

Walking down the hall with Brittany by my side felt forced. She's my best friend, but she doesn't know me at all. No one here knows me. I keep walking though, with a stoic expression on my face, I walk the same halls that I've strutted in for the last three years.

_And sing another melody completely_

_so different from the one they're always singing_

_I close my eyes and think that I have found me_

Noah Puckerman rests his back against the lockers, and points at me. Santana turns, and gives me a wink. Noah kisses the air. They're having fun. When I look at the Jocks and Cheerios that surround me, and down at my hand which Sam has taken upon himself to hold… it doesn't feel fun. It feels scripted. Now that I think about it, that's all high school has been so far. Don't let the Black Jacks win, don't let the Black Jacks win, don't-

_But then I feel mortality surround_

_I want to sing another melody_

_So different from the one I always sing_

I pulled my hand away from Sam's. I can't do this today. When he asks if I'm okay, I nod. I step away from the group, but they just keep walking. I watched them, well aware of the students who were staring at me. I spin on my heel to find Santana, but they've already gone. I see them turn the corner of the hallway. I turn again, only to see the J's and C's turning the opposite corner. I'm alone. Somehow, I've never been more at peace within these walls.

_But life inside the music box ain't easy_

_The mallets hit the gears are always turning _

_And everyone inside the mechanism _

_Is yearning... to get out_

* * *

**_I think Quinns starting to see how her life has really become, what do you think? _**

**_If any of you are curious, the song is called Music Box by Regina Spektor. I listen to it all the time, and it inspired this chapter. I imagined it playing in the background as Quinn walked through the hallway, and looked at her surroundings in a new light. I think you should listen while reading, it'll make it more dramatic ;) haha. Well, see you soon! (One more thing, I'm reading The Fame Killer (buffy46143) Thanks Mia, for recommending it! Ok. Bye. For real this time.)_**


	14. Chapter 14

I didn't join Brittany and everyone at our lunch table. Instead, I decided to sit on the bleachers. Surprisingly, no one is practicing, so it's pretty much just me out here. And the few people who're jogging, but they haven't noticed my presence. It's nice.

"You didn't come to History," familiar voice said. Santana. I shrugged.

"I lost track of time," I mumbled.

"What're you doing out here?" She asked as she sat next to me.

"Thinking."

"About?"

"Everything," I sighed.

"I'm I included in that?" She asked. I chuckled.

"If you must know, yes. I'm thinking about you too."

"Good things, right?"

"Somewhat," I shrugged. She frowned.

"What did I do?" She asked innocently. I chuckled dryly. "I guess that wasn't the best question."

"No," I giggled, "it wasn't." Then, we were quiet. Both of us just sitting, and staring out at the field. It occurred to me, that even that grassy field was an example how how we were so different. I've been to every single football game, and cheered in a uniform with the school's colors on it. The same one that I'm wearing now. Santana, on the other hand, hasn't been to a single game.

"This is nice," she said after a while.

"Santana, can I ask you something?" I asked.

"Sure."

"If things were different, do you think we would work?" I asked. I saw her look at me from the corner of my eye, but I continued to face forward.

"I think things could work just the way things are," she said. I scoffed.

"Sure."

"I do."

I rolled my eyes and turned to face her. "You're telling me, that you'd come out as a lesbian, and kiss me in front of the whole school?" I asked. She looked down slowly, so I nodded. "That's exactly what I thought."

"Like _you'd_ do that," she spat.

"I don't have much to lose."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Those guys aren't my friends. They probably don't care to find out where I am right now. Sam probably just wants a future trophy wife. My mother won't be proud of me, ever."

"That's not-"

"Santana, I could get into Yale, and she'd throw a fit because it isn't Harvard. I'm pretty much through with trying to satisfy her. What's she going to do, kick me out?"

She pursed her lips. "What about the slushies?"

"I doubt anyone would try. Sue would kill them for getting the syrup on my uniform."

"Any if you lost that too?"

"I'm her best cheerleader-"

"And this is Ohio. Quinn, you have a lot to lose. Okay? And I'm sorry, but I'm not going to bring you down with me just because you're having a particularly bad day."

I clenched my teeth. "It isn't up to you, Santana. I just want out of this _stupid_ music box."

"Music bo-?"

"Yes. Over and over, the past few years, it's been the same thing. I'm sick of it."

"Q, you're a smart girl. But sometimes, it's better to keep your secrets, and sing the same tune that everyone else is."

"No." I said, and closed my eye. "I'm done." She was about to say something, but the school bell rung. I didn't move.

"Are you going to your next class?"

"Yes."

"Can I walk you?"

"Why, to make sure I go?" I asked sarcastically.

"Alright, grouch. Let's get to class."

* * *

Part of me wants to be alone. Just, for one day, I don't want the stares, the people parting in the halls to let me through. I just want to be by myself. Another part of me wants Santana to kiss me. Another part of me is screaming, '_Make up your mind, Lucy! You either want to be with her, or you don't!'_

I have it good here, I know. I shouldn't be complaining. I mean, look at my problems. Sam, the quarterback of our champion football team wants to take me to the school dance which I am putting together. With a side sapphic secret love story- no, not a love story. Love isn't supposed to hurt you. I look to my side at Santana and glare at her. She messed everything up.

She makes me think it'll be alright to lose everything and still have her. That's crazy. And stupid. Oh god. She looked at me and gave a small, hardly noticeable smile. I'm in love with Santana Lopez. I stopped walking, so did she. She wasn't supposed to do that. She was supposed to keep going, just like the J's and C's had.

"You okay?" She whispered. I nodded. "Liar," she squinted at me. These halls don't know me. The people here don't know me. Out of everyone on this planet, Santana just _has_ to be the one person who knows me. "You're not going to hurl, are you?" I shook my head. "Are you not talking to me again? Because that's getting old real quick."

"No," I said, but it was hardly audible.

"Okay," she eyed me odly. "Do you need to go to the nurse?"

"I'm fine," but my voice shook. "I just- I can't be around you right now." I hurried past her. She didn't call my name. I listened. I didn't turn back to look at her, but I would have gone all the way back if she'd asked.

* * *

Study hall is okay. If you have homework, you get it done there. If you dont, you have an hour or so to relax. But when you're anxious and bored and your skin feels like it's on fire, relaxing gets a little complicated. My cheer skirt is itchy, and someone in this room won't stop tapping their feet. I found myself shoving all of my books into my bag, and staring at the clock. There's still forty minutes left in class.

I scoffed silently, and pulled my phone out.

_(To) Marie_

_What class are you in rn?_

I waited a few seconds for a reply, then regretted sending the message at all. What was I planning to do?

_(From) Marie_

_Oceanography. Whats up_

I took my bottom lip between my teeth. I really don't want to be around Santana. But at the same time, she's the only person I want to be around. What can I say, I'm indecisive. It's a gift.

_(To) Marie_

_Can you get me out of SH?_

Several minutes went by, so I rolled my eyes and grumpily put away my phone, and dropped my bag down on the floor. I looked at the clock. Thirty-five minutes left. I raised my hand, "Could I go to the bathroom?"

"Someones out," my teacher responded. I groaned silently, and crossed my arms over the desk. I layed my head down, and willed myself to fall asleep.

"Excuse me, Mr. Benitez?" Someone said. I looked up and saw a long legged gawky boy walking to Mr. Benitez's desk. He handed him a small yellow paper.

"Let's see, who's this?" Mr. B put on his reading glasses. "Quinn Fabray. Take your things, they want you in the nursing office," he said. I eyed him oddly, but grabbed my bag and stood. The boy and I walked out together.

"Hi, I'm-" The boy started when we were out of the class.

"Not interested," I mumbled.

"Well that was rude," someone said. I recognized the voice immediately. "Thank you James," she nodded to the boy. "You're dismissed."

I rolled my eyes and continued to walk to the nurse's office.

"Um, where do you think you're going?" She asked me.

"The nurse."

She arched an eyebrow. "Really, moody?"

It took me a second, but I caught on. She's the nurse. "Oh my god, Santana," I chuckled.

"Finally, a smile," she said. I pursed my lips to try to bit back my grin, but it didn't really help. "I got you out. What's next?"

I linked my finger with my hair tie, then smoothly pulled down my high pony. "Anything. I just really don't want to be here."

"Thought you didn't want to be around me," she pointed as we walked.

"Oh, I don't," I assured her, "but you're the only one who can get me out of here with getting me marked absent."

"So, you're using me?" She was exaggerating, so I couldn't help but laugh again.

"Not exactly," I said through my chuckles.

"What do I get as a thanks?" She asked teasingly.

"Thank you," I nodded. She clicked her tongue.

"I don't think that'll cut it."

I looked around. We're alone. "I hate you, you know?" She raised an eyebrow, but didn't do anything. I wrapped my arms around her neck.

"Anyone can come out right now," she said.

"I don't care."

"Q-"

I inched closer to her face. "Do you really want me to stop?"

"Yes." But she tilted her chin upward, her lips ghosted over mine. Slowly, I put my arms down. Then I took a step back.

"Let's get out of here," I said after I took a breath.

* * *

"I just want something different," I explained. We're sitting in the living room, the house is empty. Bar us, of course. As soon as we got here, I ran upstairs and ripped off my uniform. Now, I'm wearing a pair of sweats and a tank top.

"Elaborate," she said without looking at me. She's watching some movie, but I'm not paying attention to it. I'm too busy having my midlife crisis at the tender age of seventeen.

"I _don't know_," I groaned. "I just- with the uniforms, and the same people, and the same fights-"

"So basically, you're bored?" She asked with a half smile.

"And I don't want this," I said, gesturing between the two of us. "There's way too much confusion that I can live without." She frowned. "But, I tried cutting you off. But I live with you, and you're stubborn."

"Damn straight," she said.

"I just want a little bit of change."

"Don't run for ice queen at the winter formal. That'll shake things up," she shrugged.

"You and I both know that people will write my name in. I'll win, even if I don't show up."

"Well aren't you humble."

"Santana, I'm serious. If I keep living like this, I'm going to go insane."

Finally, she looked at me. "Then lets get you a puppy."

"Are you kidding me?"

"No, you want something new, we're going to get you a dog. It'll keep your mind off yourself."

"You want to give me even more responsibility? San, I can hardly take care of myself, let alone another life."

"You take care of Rhys."

"That's different. I didn't get Rhys from Petco."

"Fine, we won't get you a dog," she chuckled. After a few seconds, she asked, "Is it yourself that you want to change, or the things around you?"

"Both."

"What if I told you I knew a way you could do both, with only a little bit of consequence?"

"I'd tell you that I'm interested."

At that, she smiled. "You've gotta trust me."

I scrunched up my eyebrows. As much as I can't stand it, I trust her more than I trust myself. "I trust you."

* * *

When we walked through the Beauty Supply store's door, there were a few chimes. "What are we doing here?" I asked her. She kept walking.

"Just picking up a few things." She told me. I followed her. When she stopped abruptly, I bumped into her. "Watch where you're going," she said as she turned down the aisle. I scoffed and followed. When she stopped again, I was prepared. "Here we are," she stated. I looked at was she was talking about, and my jaw dropped. Hair dye.

"Santana-"

"Dying your hair is one of the best subtle signs of rebellion there is," she explained. "You act the same way, but people will look at you differently because of… well, your hair."

"I don't know… I don't think Sue would let me," I said.

She rolled her eyes. "Just tell her you'll dye it back in time for that competition."

"You know about that?" I asked.

"Sure I do. Now," she turned to face all the colors, "pick your poison."

* * *

"Have you ever done this?" I asked nervously.

"Once when I was fourteen. My hair was blonde for about a week," she admitted.

I tried to hold back my laughter, I really did. "I'm sorry I just… I can't see it."

"Please, I looked hot," she said confidently.

"Then why'd you change it back?" I asked.

"My dad hated it. You're stalling."

I shrugged. "'I'm nervous." We heard someone come in downstairs, then Rhys's and Leos voices. Maribel must have picked them up today. "I've never gotten more than a trim."

"Look, you don't have to do this. But, you won't regret it," she said. Then she gave me that cute little smile that said '_You know you'll do this just because I asked you to_,'. I gave in.

"Let's do this," I said.

Within minutes, I was leaning over the sink as Santana worked her fingers through my hair. "I can't believe you're actually going through with this," she told me.

"I can't either," but my voice was muffled. She turned off the water. When I stood straight up, she wrapped my hair in a towel.

"When the timer goes off, we're supposed to rinse out the dye," she told me. Then, she took my hand and guided me to her room. I didn't protest. Then we sat on her bed. My shirt was basically soaked, but I don't mind. Honestly, I kind of like it. It's cooling. "Why are we so complicated?" She blurted.

"Hm?" I hummed.

"I'm sorry, Quinn," she said.

"Santana, what are you-"

"You're already going through a lot. And here I am, practically screaming at you to be my secret. I called you selfish, but it's really me. Your house burned down, your mom told me that you guys are super low on cash, and I'm complicating your life even more."

"San-"

"But I don't want to stop," she ignored me. "I just want to keep doing this, because it seems like you only ever talk to me when I'm bugging you, and you only touch me when you want to kiss me."

"I-"

"If I were a boy, would you be with me?" She asked. At that, I scoffed.

"If that was the case, I'd be with Noah right now."

She scrunched up her nose. "I don't want you to be with him."

"And I don't want to be with him. Or Sam. I want to be with you-"

"You hate me," she reminded me.

"But I also lo- like you," I caught myself. "You make me mad, and calm, and you make my skin feel really hot, but cold at the same time. I don't know why.. I just really like being around you."

She smiled. "I think you're some sort of masochist," she said.

I shook my head and hit her arm softly. "Thats _exactly_ what I wanted to hear," I said sarcastically.

"So, we like eachother. What's next?" She asked. The timer dinged.

"Next, we rinse."

* * *

We were quiet. The only sound that could be heard as we ate dinner, was the clinking of forks against plates. With my newly pink hair, I felt a different kind of confidence. Not the kind that wearing a uniform gave me, but a personal confidence. Santana likes it.

"Is someone going to tell me why Quinn's hair looks like cotton candy?" Leo blurted. Santana choked on her water, I smiled, and my mom dropped her fork. Maybe she thought it was all in her head, and that my hair was still blonde.

"I did it," Santana admitted. Maribel gave her a look, but Santana shrugged it off. Momma kept eating.

"I like it," Rhys smiled. "Can I do that?" He asked.

"Maybe-"

"Absolutely not," Momma said. I refrained from rolling my eyes. "And you're fixing it."

"Fixing what?" I asked as I gently placed my fork down.

"That," she sighed. "It isn't acceptable. You've never done anything like this before-"

"Momma, I like my hair the way it is," I explained delicately. We stared at each other, the others watched.

"If it interferes with your cheerleading, it has to go," she said finally.

This is as close to winning as I'll get. "Yes Momma."

* * *

"Quinn!" Santana came through my door without knocking. I'd just put on my shirt, and was about to brush my teeth. "Q, we have a problem." I looked at her. Her eyes were glossed, like she was about to cry, and her cheeks were flushed.

"Santana, what's wrong?" I asked carefully.

"Fucking JBI saw us. In the hallways he saw us," she practically tossed her backpack onto my bed. "It's on his stupid blog."

I looked at the website. I have to admit, it's a nice photo of us. I have my arms around her neck, and her lips are close to mine. With my cheerio uniform, and her leather jacket, we look like the perfect star crossed couple. "I'm sorry Santana," I said softly.

"Everyone is going to know now. Everyone is going to know, because of you!" She yelled.

"Santana, calm down." She's pacing my room.

"It was just posted- we can get him to take it down-"

"The whole school reads that stupid blog!" She ignored me. She stopped pacing and approached me. "And you don't even care."

"No, I-"

"I saw you smile. You planned this!"

"Don't assume things-"

"You know that I don't want to be out, so you're trying to force me. Fuck that, _and_ fuck you."

"Santana, please, just-" What happened next, I don't think either of us expected. I tried to grab her wrist, but she shoved me away. Hard. I looked up at her from the floor, she had her hand over her mouth. Without another word, she turned and walked out of my room.

* * *

It wasn't difficult to get Jacob to remove the picture. I just went to his 'Contact me' page,sent him an eMail that promised three interviews next week, and voila. It was down in fifteen minutes. Now, it's a little after eleven, and I don't want to sleep. I slid out of my bed, and walked down the hallway towards Santana's room. She didn't respond when I knocked.

"Santana?" I said softly. No reply. "San, the picture is down." Nada. "Please let me in," I said a little louder. I expected the door to be locked, but it opened easily. Just as I was about to step in-

"What are you doing?" Her voice startled me.

"Oh, you're out here," I'm thankful for the dim lighting. Otherwise, my red cheeks would be evident.

"Yeah, I am. Why are you going in my room?"

"I wanted to talk to you-"

"It's late. I'm tired."

"The pictures are gone, San. I didn't plan anything, I thought we were alone."

"Bullshit, we're never really alone in the middle of a hallway."

I sighed. "I know. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry for pushing you," she mumbled.

"It was a heated moment. But now, we get to make up," I smiled hopefully. I finally broke her indifferent expression, she gave me a smile.

"And what kind of makeup are we talking about here?" She asked teasingly.

"A little some'n some'n," I said, just as teasingly.

"Oh yeah?"

I giggled. "Yes." I opened her door all the way and pulled her inside.

"Q, are we… are we having sex?" She blurted. I bit my lip and shook my head.

"Get your mind out of the gutter. I'm in the celibacy club."

Her smile dropped. "Are you kidding me?"

"I'm in it," I shrugged. "So you'll just have to wait." I wonder how long I can keep this up without laughing.

"Quinn, I'm not going to ask you to marry me," she deadpanned. "We're in high school! And I know that it's legal in all states, but that's still pretty fresh and if anything we should wait until it's a little more… you know?"

"Are you planning to marry me just so you can get into my pants?" I asked, with one eyebrow arched. She sputtered a little, so I finally broke character.

"Oh, you _bitch_," she pouted.

"I'm in the club, it's true. But I'm waiting until _I'm_ ready, so _maybe_ not until marriage. Or in this case, until _we're_ ready. Let's face it San, we're a mess."

She linked our fingers. "I like our mess."

"Please, we can't go a day without fighting."

"Maybe it's all that pent up sexual frustration," she shrugged. Then she yawned.

"Come on, you dork. Tonight, let's just sleep. We both know that sex would just complicate things even more."

"But promise me one thing," she said sleepily as we laid down.

"Hm?"

"If you won't be my secret yet-"

"Santana-"

"Let me be your first time. Okay?"

After a few seconds of silence, I nodded. "Okay."

We didn't kiss that night, let alone have sex. But her leg was over mine, and her face was only a few inches away. I like this. I like being here with her, being connected like this. And I like my pink hair, consequences be damned.

* * *

I opened my eyes and blinked. I forgot where I fell asleep last night. Santana's legs are both on me, but her upper body is almost off of the bed.

"San," I said. "San," I nudged her a little. She squinted as she pushed herself up, then smiled lazily at me. Then, her eyes were closed and she was laying on my shoulder. "Santana," I giggled.

"Ten more minutes," she mumbled. I chuckled. We're probably already late, so whats another ten minutes. Soon, I felt myself start to drift off. "_Mmm, Quinn,"_ I heard Santana mumble. I jerked awake.

"Um, San…"

"_Yes… right there, right there, Quinn," _she whined. Oh god. She's- no. My face went beet red in a matter of seconds.

"Santana, it's time to wake up," I started to move.

"_Ohhh, I'm- I'm- I,"_ then her eyes opened, and she grinned mischievously. "I gotcha." I gasped and pushed her off of me, she went tumbling off the bed in laughter.

"That's not funny!"

"You should've seen your face!" She laughed. "Quinn," she climbed back up on the bed, "you're s-so red," oh she thinks she's funny.

"Aren't you just a comedian," I grumbled.

"Are you mad?" She asked. I looked at her and rolled my eyes.

"No."

"You sound mad."

I smiled. "I'm not mad," I assured her. "A little flustered though."

She hummed, then rolled over to check the time. "It's almost eleven," she said. My eyes widened.

"I didn't know we slept in that much," I quickly got out of her bed. When I turned around, there was a mirror on her wall. I'd forgotten about my hair. "Oh shit," I ran my fingers through it.

"You know, if you wanna rebel any more, we can get you a pixie cut," Santana said suggestively.

I shook my head. "I think this is enough for now." She got up and stood beside me, then wrapped her arms around my waist.

"It does make a statement," she said. "I like it."

"I'm glad," I smiled.

"Looks like cotton candy," she mused. I laughed softly.

"We should get ready to go," I said. She nodded, but neither of us moved. "San."

"People are going to assume things," she said. "If we're both late, and your hair is pink… I think I'll just stay home today."

"San, I got the picture down."

"I know," she sighed and stepped back. Now, she's sitting on her bed looking up at me. "Still. Maybe someone else just so happened to look at his page last night."

"How about," I sat next to her, "we come out as friends."

She looked at me. "Because the J's and C's would _totally_ be cool with that."

"I don't care."

"Santana, last time there were rumors about our friends being friends, do you remember what happened?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"And you want that to happen all over again, just so that we can be friends? When we're not even that?"

I saw down next to her. "Santana, I think it's time to stop saying that. We're friends. Friends who-"

"Have sex dreams about each other?"

"I was going to say kiss each other. But whatever happens after this is for us to worry about later. Look, I'm not going to be your secret. You can't to come out yet, I get that. I wont try to kiss you in the hall. But I'm going to say hi, and I'm going to talk to you in AP US."

"And what if I just tell everyone that you're insane?"

I shrugged. "That's your choice."

"You're being pushy again," she grumbled.

"I'm the only one who'll push you."

* * *

We drove separately. Baby steps, I suppose. Santana must have taken a detour, because I beat her here.

"W-wow," Sam saw me first. My pink hair was pulled into a high pony, as if it'd always been that way.

"Do you like it?" I smiled charmingly. His eyes were wide. In fact, everyone's were. They were gawking as if I'd shaved my head, and I loved it.

"It-it's different," he managed.

"I, for one, think it looks delicious," Brittany said as she linked her arm through mine. "Like cotton candy."

"Thank you, Britt," I smiled.

"It looks.. pink?" Blaine tried. I chuckled and rolled my eyes.

"Well, that was the idea."

"And who's idea was it?" Sam asked curiously.

"Mine," I lied. When we walked through the halls, I ignored the stares. My attention was elsewhere, searching for the familiar brown eyes that I haven't seen all morning. Before I knew it, a microphone was shoved in my face.

"Quinn Fabray! Any comment on the new hair?" Jacob squealed.

"I wanted something new," I said easily. "Sometimes I forget that I'm in high school, and I need to figure myself out."

"You heard it here first folks," Jacob said as he turned to face the camera, "the rumors are false, this was not a prank!" Then, he was off. I chuckled softly to myself.

"Quinn," the next voice was the one of my Spanish teacher. "I noticed the new hair, and that's usually a sign of trying to find your place. I just wanted you to know, everyone has a place in Glee Club. You're always welcome," he said. I scrunched up her eyebrows.

"Since when does dying my hair mean that I want to join your club?" I asked. "Thanks, but I'll pass."

"Did you want attention?" Sam whispered into my ear. I rolled my eyes.

"Sam, I wanted my hair to be pink, okay?" I hissed. He put the hand that wasn't holding mine up in defense. "In a little while, it'll be old news."

"Then what, you'll dye it purple?" He mumbled.

"If I want to, then yes." I can tell he hadn't intended for me to hear him, but I replied anyway. It's my hair. My choice. I looked forward again, and caught sight of exactly who I'd been looking for.

"Fabray," Santana greeted confidently. She held out a cup for me. It looked like a Lima Bean coffee cup.

"Lopez," I smirked as I took it. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

Our friends eyed us uneasily. They probably expected me to toss it at her. Instead, I brought it to my lips. After our little staring contest, we went our own ways.

"Okay, what the hell was that?" Kitty, a fellow cheerio, asked. I hardly spoke to her out of practice.

"It was me getting coffee," I said, as if it was obvious.

"What if she poisoned it?" Another one asked.

"Or drank from it? I heard she has the herps," Kitty stated. I scoffed.

"That's a stupid rumor."

"Since when are you cool with her?" Sam asked me.

"Since I realized that this whole thing is stupid, and we're graduating this year. This kind of thing won't happen in college." I explained.

Slowly, he nodded. "So, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying, we need to stop acting mature."

"So...we just, become friends with the _Black Jacks_?" Blaine asked. I nodded. "And what if this is just their attempt at being at the top of the food chain?"

"They don't care about the food chain," I said, "they don't care about being popular. That's why they've been so good at getting under our skin. We care, and they don't. We made rules that they don't give a crap about."

"So you want us to stop caring?" Sam asked. It felt nice to take charge. To have the loudest voice.

"We're big fish here, Sam. But out there, we're tiny. None of this really matters."

"You sound like one of them," Blaine pointed.

"Exactly," I smiled. "Just trust me on this."

"Q, if this backfires-" Sam started. I leaned up to kiss his cheek.

"It won't."

I couldn't help but wonder what Santana's friends thought of the whole thing. I'll just have to ask her later.

* * *

"Well if it isn't McKinley's golden girl gone bad," someone said. "Or should I say, pink?" I smiled t my reflection. Kitty eyes Santana uneasily. "Get out, Wilde."

"It's the ladies bathroom. Are you sure you should be in here?" Kitty bit. I closed my lip gloss. Santana can handle this. Plus, I know she won't take well to me defending her.

"I thought I said to beat it," Santana approached her. Kitty's hands rested on her hips, while Santana's arms were crossed. Although she wasn't very tall (I'm a bit taller), she was intimidating all the same. "Or does the school need to find out about a certain cheerleader hooking up with a boy with a mohawk?"

"I was drunk," Kitty hissed.

"I couldn't care less."

Kitty looked at me for defense, but I only shrugged. "You're lucky Quinn likes you for some reason," she grumbled as she left the bathroom. Santana held up a ring of keys.

"Is it just you in here?" She asked. I nodded. I leaned against the sink as she locked the door.

"Kitty hooked up with Noah?" I asked.

"Apparently," she chuckled. "I was bluffing."

"So, what're you doing in here?" I asked.

"So just because I'm here, I have an agenda?" She joked. I smiled.

"Well, can you blame me for being curious after you locked the door?"

"Yes, actually. This is all your fault," she said through chuckles. "I've been teased relentlessly by the guys this morning."

"Oh?"

She hummed and walked towards me. "Apparently, I'm hot for you," she said.

"Apparently?" She stood in front of me.

"Mhm. And _apparently_, I'm going soft for you."

"Oh, now that one just can't be true."

"Needless to say, today's been pretty rough." Her arms wrapped around my waist. My elbows rested on her shoulders, and my fingers linked behind her head. "How did golden boy like your hair?"

"He thinks it's a cry for attention," I shrugged.

"Is it?"

I eyed her for a second, then shook my head. "I think I have all the attention I want." She smiled when she realised what I meant.

"I like this," she said as she softly brushed her nose against mine.

"Can we keep this?" I asked. Our foreheads were pressed together, our arms wrapped around each other.

"Sure," she chuckled. I made the first move by pressing my lips against hers.

"Can I keep you?"

She was hesitant. I didn't give her time to answer before I closed the space between us. For once, I know exactly what I want. All of these epiphanies are kind of giving me whiplash, but I like this one the best. I can have Santana. I can have the good grades, and I can have college, and whatever comes after. It's not choosing between the two, it's choosing both. I just hope that she chooses me too.

* * *

"Quinn! Quinn! Everybody saw this morning, when Black Jack, Santana Lopez, gave you coffee. Are the rumors true? Will there be a truce taking place in Mckinley High?" JBI asked. I took a breath. Every word I say counts.

"I can't speak for everybody," okay, nice start Quinn, "but I know that personally, I'm tired of this rivalry. There are more important things to focus on." Like Santana. "Like Cheer nationals, and the Winter Formal."

"And rumors of romance?" He asked, his shaky hand pushed the mike closer to me. I rolled my eyes.

"If Quinn was into girls, she wouldn't be with _Hopez_," Kitty stated sharply. I gave her a quick stern look, before looking directly at the camera.

"We're working on being civil," I said.

"On the record, there is nothing between you and Ms. Lopez?"

I clenched my jaw, and smiled tightly. He's pushing it. "I already said what I have to say," I told him, "no further comments."

I can't out myself without outing Santana too. And as much as I want us to be together, she's right. I'm a little pushy.

* * *

Today was going moderately okay until this happened. Now, Sam is staring at me with his blue puppy dog eyes, with this hopeful dopey smile on his face. The cafeteria is looking at me like this is what they've been waiting for. And all I want to do it eat my brownie in peace.

I should have known something was up when Kitty and Brittany had this anxious look they were both sporting, and when they immediately looped their arms in mine. Red flags were all around when I noticed Sam was the only one who wasn't at our table.

"What's going on?" I'd asked carefully. They just smiled, and told me to wait. Then, there was a strum of a guitar, and the cafeteria was silent. When I saw that it was Sam, I had to refrain from groaning. He's so sweet. If he'd done this about a month ago, I'd have swooned. But there he was, singing to me and walking towards me. I could hear a few people harmonizing- that's when I noticed that he got the Glee club involved. The song was I'm Your's, so there was just enough cliche mixed in to make my stomach turn.

"Q," he said, once he was in front of me, "I don't really get what you're doing, but I'm trying. I'm going to back you up- see, that's why I went to Rachel. If you want all of us to be friends by graduation, I will help. I support you, and I really like you. A lot," he grinned. I smiled softly in return, but said nothing. He cleared his throat. "Quinn, will you be my girlfriend?"

I know what I'm supposed to say. I'm supposed to say yes. If I do that, then there's no questions. But if I don't, then there's too many, and JBI still have one interview left with me. I looked at him, and took my bottom lip between my teeth. This is for Santana.

* * *

_**I hadn't planned on that happening, but honestly, I don't even know what she's going to say. This chapter wrote itself.**_

_**But, I'd just like to point out that instead of smoking under the bleachers, Santana is getting Quinn to go to class. Mostly.**_

_**I like how they're both changing, and taking character traits from each other. It's like they're molding into who they are. Anyway, I'll see you guys soon. Also, The Fame Killer was fantastic. I also read 'As If We Never Said Goodbye' (Catty Jay). I hope that I can be as talented as hose writers, and I recommend reading those. They're both complete. Okay. Bye guys (:**_

_**(**please lemme know what you think maybe? I'm not even sure about how I feel about this one.**)**_


	15. Chapter 15

"Sam, I… I don't know what to say," I told him honestly. He handed his guitar to Brittany, who silently played air guitar for a few seconds.

"Say…" he shrugged, "yes." I opened my mouth to speak, but the sound of a door closing caught my attention. Well, everyone's. Of course they come in now. I see Noah talk to someone, before he and his friends brush by me. I see Santana soon after. "Quinn," Sam said, as if he was reminding me that he was still here.

"Right," I nodded.

"Is that a yes?"

"Uh-"

"What the heck?" Sam shouted. I winced. He stood straight up and turned on his heel, then slid off his jacket. Chocolate pudding slid down, and left a stain. "Who threw this!"

I looked at Santana, and smiled knowingly when I saw that she had her index finger in her mouth.

"We should leave," Kitty said urgently.

"I _just_ bought this bow tie," Blaine hissed.

Before we could leave, someone's voice bellowed through the cafeteria. "Food fight!"

"Sue's going to kill us if we get our uniforms stained!" I told the squad. Immediately, we got down on the floor, and under the table. While they maneuvered their way towards the exit, I went the opposite direction.

Getting at least one stain on my uniform was inevitable. I crawled away from my table, and towards the doors that I last saw Santana by. I went out that way, and found myself laughing at the scene. The laughter only died when I remembered that Sam would want an answer. I can't avoid it forever, and I won't always get lucky like that.

"Blondie!" I heard Santana call. She and her friends were shaking off their jackets, and kicking the crumbs away. I approached her, a grateful grin played on my lips. "Congratulations, Fabray, it seems you've reached your peak."

"What?" I asked, an eyebrow arched.

"The apex of your high school career," she told me as she slid her jacket back on. "Head cheerleader, second bitch in charge, and future Winter Formal Queen. Prom too. Now, a stud boyfriend is added to that list."

"Santana-"

She interrupted me by holding her hand up. "It's fine," she said dryly. "You're just helping me, right?"

"Quinn!" I winced. Sam. "That was crazy."

"For an athlete, you sure suck at dodging," Santana said bitterly. "Or, are you only good under water?"

"Maybe guppy boy here should take up synced swim," Noah snickered. I rolled my eyes.

"Look, for some reason, my girl doesn't have a problem with you. And I don't get it, but I trust her judgment," Sam ignored their lip comments, and I have to say, that's impressive. They were clearly trying to get a rise out of him. I refrained from shrugging out from under his arm, which he'd rested around my shoulders. Santana's jaw clenched.

"Whatever," she mumbled. "You guys have been the ones caring this whole time."

"Yeah, well I hope you care about the bill you'll be receiving. This leather jacket cost more than you'll ever make in a lifetime," Sam damn near sneered. They were just under two hundred dollars.

"Shows how fucking pretentious you are," Noah scowled. "And I'm not paying. I didn't do anything."

"You're the one who shouted food fight!"

"So? I didn't stain your _precious_ jacket."

They glared at each other, until Sam decided to give up. He kissed my temple, and I could _feel_ Santana's anger. "Let's get out of here," Sam mumbled. I glanced at Santana, but her stoic expression proved that she wasn't up for talking to me right now. As soon as we started to walk away, I pulled out my phone, and ignored the look Sam gave me.

_(To) Marie_

_I'm sorry._

Her reply came less than 20 seconds later.

_(From) Marie_

_c you at home._

I felt my throat go dry. I guess it's time for me to prepare myself- it's pretty hard to avoid Santana's rage. Especially if you live with her.

* * *

I beat her to the house, and went straight to my room. If I lock the door, she can't get in. If she hasn't cooled down, surely she will be tomorrow… maybe? Just in case, I locked the door, and pushed my arm chair in front of it. That'll do.

But what about dinner? I had a big lunch. A salad. A bite- but hey, I'm not hungry. All of this trouble, when I know I could have just said no to Sam. But why would I? He's McKinley's favorite beach boy, even though we all know he's a bottle blonde. He's a dream. But he's not my dream. I couldn't explain that. But- three knocks. I really hope that I imagined those. Just for luck, I crossed my fingers. Nope.

"Who is it?" I asked tentatively.

"Rhys," came my brothers voice. Huh. I was too busy barricading myself to hear them come in.

"Anyone else?" I asked.

"Can I come in?" He countered. I contemplated it was a little bit, then thought I was foolish for doing so. With a small grunt, I pulled the arm chair away, and opened the door. But Rhys wasn't there. No, he stood behind Santana, who was fuming. I have to admit, she looks very attractive when she's angry. But I'm not saying that out loud. Rhys wiggled his fingers in the most unapologetic way, before going off. How dare she use my little brother against me.

"Santana," I greeted.

"Fabray."

"Well, if that's all-" I started to close the door, but her foot stopped that immediately. She let her herself in, leaving me to shut the door behind her. As she stared at me, I grew upset with her. "Say it," I said bluntly.

"I don't know what you want me to say? Say no to Sam? Say yes?"

"Say _something_," I rolled my eyes. "You know I want to be with you." My words seemed to calm her down, so I took a step forward.

"But for how long?" She asked. "I don't want you to just ditch me when things get hard."

"You know I wouldn't-"

"Do I?" She uncrossed her arms and ran her fingers through her hair. "What about when the water gets too hot? When people staring at you starts to make your skin burn, and suddenly, it's us holding hands that makes you feel like you're on fire, and you want out?"

"_San_," I said. She stopped and looked at me expectantly. "I don't want to be with anyone but you. I won't dance with Sam at the Winter Formal. I don't want to kiss him-"

"Good, he might swallow you. Dude has some serious lips," she cracked a smile.

"Just you, okay?" I closed more of the distance between us, and took her hands. "Us. Okay?"

"Fine," she said.

"Does that mean…?"

"It means, if I catch pretty boy Bieber with his arm around you again, he loses his nuts."

* * *

I couldn't wipe the grin from my face. Come dinner time, and everytime I look up at Santana, I can feel my cheeks redden. So, I decided the best thing to do was to keep my eyes on my plate.

"What's him name?" Mom asked. I looked up at her in question.

"Whose?"

"The boy who's made you smile. Have I met him?"

I rolled my eyes, and shook my head gently. "There's no boy."

"Then why are you pink?"

"I-I don't know, maybe my hair is making my complection-"

"Don't play dumb, Quinnie. I'm your mother, and I know you."

"Hardly," I mumbled.

She ignored my comment. "I have news," she said. "your grandfather is sick."

"Then why don't you look upset?" I've never met the man, but he raised my mother.

"I'm an only child. Only, he wrote me out of his will-"

"Why?"

"Quinn, it's rude to interrupt," Maribel reminded me gently. I gave her an apologetic nod, and my mother continued.

"That isn't important. What is important is, he's invited us back. To prove ourselves of course. So, Rhys and I will be leaving-"

"Why do I have to go?" He whined.

"I have to bring one child, and your sister's hair is… unpleasant," she gave me a look, but I shrugged it off.

"Why can't we stay here? I like it here." He tried.

"My decision is final. We'll be going Friday night, and back Sunday morning. Hopefully, with good news."

I mouthed, '_Sorry_,' when he looked at me. There's a few days until Friday. Maybe Santana and I can take Rhys and Leo to the Zoo or something. Santana and I. That sounds really, really good.

* * *

I pushed Santana towards my bed, and kicked my door closed. After locking it, since no one knows how to knock here, I practically jumped on her. She chuckled, and tried to flip us over.

"Quinnie, that wasn't very _pleasant_ of you," she mocked.

"Imitating my mother is _really_ not a turn on," I said as I pinned her arms down.

"Please, like I even have to try-"

"God, stop talking," I groaned. I kissed her lips until I couldn't breath. As soon as I pulled away, she flipped us over.

"That was rude," she grumbled. I almost responded, but my words died when I felt her lips on my neck.

"S-San don't leave a mark," I groaned. When I felt her chuckle against my skin, I knew it was too late.

"Sorry," she said teasingly. I felt her tongue go over her mark to soothe it, and basically melted. "If I'm doing this, I'm going all out. They're going to know who you belong to."

"Belong to?"

"Exactly," she smiled triumphantly. I rolled my eyes. She's happy. I'm happy. I'll let her get away with that tonight.

* * *

"God Santana!" I yelled. I eyed my neck in the mirror- the mark was way bigger than I thought it was going to be. "What are you, 12?"

She sat up and yawned. I could see her reflection's sleepy smug grin. "And a half, thank you very much," she said, her voice was raspy from just waking. She rolled out of bed, then dragged her feet until she stood next to me. "Mm, I got you good, Fabray." She placed a delicate kiss on her mark.

"Screw you," I laughed.

"Soon," she winked. I swallowed, but my throat had gone dry. "I'm gonna go get dressed. Leaving in 30, okay?"

"Cool," I said lowly. She gave me a smile, then left my room. I looked at my reflection again, and smiled. I have a really good feeling about today.

After tightening my high pony, and putting on a jacket with the collar popped up, I jogged down the stairs. Of course I tried to cover up he stupid hickey with makeup, but even caked on, it still looked discolored.

"See ya mom, bye Rhys, have a nice day Maribel," I hurried out the front door, without bothering to say a word to Santana. Instead, I waited out by her car. When she joined me, I saw that her cocky little smirk never left. "Someone looks proud," I grumbled. She shrugged and unlocked the car.

"So, are you sure about today?"

"Absolutely."

"And I'm not just your phase?" She asked in a smaller voice.

"Never," I assured her. I took her free hand and gave it a little squeeze. After taking a breath, she nodded.

"Alright," she said, her smile back in place. I could tell she was scared. I'm scared too. After this, things change. Lots of things. But, it's time. "Alright, take that off," she said when we pulled into her regular spot.

"I couldn't cover the mark-"

"You look ridiculous. It's not cold enough for a fucking _parka_," she laughed. "You can wear mine." I scoffed, but smiled all the same as I pulled off my jacket. "Damn, I'm good," she said more to herself than to me.

"Yeah, keep talking. Payback's a bitch," I mumbled. I put on her jacket, and she fixed the collar for me. "Ready?" I smiled.

She nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'm ready." We got out of her car. As soon as we were in reach, our finger entwined.

"Just remember, they're staring because we're hot," I assured her. She nodded, and kept her chin up. We can do this. No doubt.

The stares were blatant, and jaws nearly hit the floor. I felt her grip on my hand tighten, so I glanced at her. She had her same stoic expression on. She's almost too good at hiding her feelings. To soothe her, I drew little circles with my thumb on the back of her palm. It seemed to work. Up until we saw the J's and C's.

"Um," Sam smiled nervously, "what's this?"

"None of your business," Santana spat.

"Looks like my business," Sam crossed his arms. "Looks like you've got a death grip on my girl's hand."

"Like the death grip you had? On those babies heads, I mean. When you swallowed them."

I sighed, and spoke up. "I'm not your girl, Sam," I said lowly. We'd gained a small crowd, who apparently, didn't have anything better to do. "I'm with Santana."

"So, you're what, gay now?" Blaine asked hesitantly.

"I'm not going to label myself, or let anyone else here do that for me. I'm happy with Santana, so just support me-"

"I love you, Quinn," Sam said. "I don't know if you're doing this to prove something, or make your mom mad-"

"Fuck you, fish boy," Santana hissed.

"This is between Quinn and I, okay? This is none of your business."

"Actually, it is my business. Because, my girl here, doesn't want to be with you. So move on, alright bottle blondie?"

Sam pursed his lips, and his jaw clenched. He took a breath to calm himself down. "This isn't over," he assured her. "When this little phase is done, call me." He left after that, and the rest of them followed.

"That wasn't so bad," I smiled uneasily.

"Frickin dykes," I heard Sam say. He said it just loud enough, right before they turned the corner. Santana's eyes were a little glossy, so I kissed her cheek.

"Honey, it's okay," I said. "Don't do that, that was the worst that could come of this. Stupid name calling. It doesn't mean anything. Sticks and stones."

She laughed a little. "I was supposed to be the stronger one," she smiled.

I grinned in return. "Not always," I shrugged. Again, she laughed. We started to walk to where she knew her friends would be, but she noticed something a little strange.

"Uh, Q," she pointed with her free hand. Not too far away, a small group of girls walked. One had blue hair, another silver, and the third dip dyed the tips red.

"Oh my god," I giggled.

"My girlfriend, the trend setter, Quinn Fabray. I like the sound of that."

"I do too," I smiled.

"But it was totally my idea."

* * *

**_So it's the first day of them being a couple. Let's see how it goes c:_**

**_Thanks for the reviews/favorites/follows from the last chapter! Also, for those of you who said that I shouldn't write without planning, you're right. I just like the feeling, you know? Where I can just write freely, because writers block isn't in the way. But, thanks for sticking to the story anyway, it means a lot. Anyway, thanks _**ErosEternaGlee, **_your review helped me finish up this chapter. (I read a bunch of the suggestions for fics and there's way too many to list them. Keep them coming though, I want to read as many as I can before school starts back up.)_**

**_._**

**reviewer who asked about Oceanography- yes, it's a class offered at my school. I don't take it yet, but i can't wait!**

**.**

**_If there's anything you want to see happen, like cute fluffy parts or other things, let me know. I'd love to include your suggestions. Alright guys, see you soon :) _**


	16. Chapter 16

_so i wasn't gonna update today because I want to try to get organised and whatnot, but Chapter 17... well, I'll tell you about it after you read this chapter. On with the story... _

* * *

Turns out, more people dyed their hair than we thought. It's like we started a revolution or something. People came up to me and thanked me, apparently they'd wanted to do it for a while, but were afraid of getting slushied. And when Santana stood by me, hardly paying attention to the conversations, they whispered that they supported us. Santana pretended not to care, but I knew she did.

All was well until the news got around to the Puck Heads. We were walking with the Black Jacks. It must have looked amusing, me with my pink hair, uniform, and Santana's leather jacket. But their leader, Rick or something, approached us with a cocky smirk. He eyed me, and I couldn't help but squirm. Santana immediately sensed how uncomfortable I was and took a step forward so her shoulder would be in front of mine.

"Did you need something?" Santana asked in stoic tone. Her face read, '_I don't have time for you. At all.' _

"Not you, don't think you have any hope," he said. His voice _oozed_ cockiness. "But I might be able to straighten pinky out here out. Seeing as how Sammy boy was so lame, went and made you gay."

"First of all-"

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?" Noah interrupted. "You think that you'd have any sort of chance with either of these ladies. You think I wasn't a little butt hurt that Jewish Jesus made these two smokin hot girls, and gave them to each other? Suck it the fuck up."

Rick shifted uncomfortably. "I-I don't r-recall talking to you, Puckerman," he sputtered.

"Ha!" Noah boomed.

"Turn yourself around before I shove that stick of yours where the sun don't shine," Santana sneered. Rick's team muttered things to each other, but he gave them a look that silenced them.

"Whatever. You're not even that hot," he shrugged. I scoffed. Seriously? Typical. He went off, and I let out of a breath that I wasn't aware of holding.

"Think that's the worse?" I asked.

"Wasn't bad," Santana smiled. "Thank you, Noah," she said gratefully.

"I've got your back," he shrugged. Then he looked at me. "Your's too. Let me know if anyone bothers you."

"Holy shit," Santana said. We followed her line of sight, and our eyes widened in shock. Sam was walking by himself. Letterman jacket. Perfect hair. Red slushie, dripping down his face.

_Holy shit. _

"I'm gonna-"

"You don't have to," Santana assured me.

"He's still my friend," I said. She nodded in understanding, and pressed a quick kiss against my lips. I faced her friends (my friends too now, I suppose) "Thanks, Noah," I smiled. I nodded towards the rest of them, then went after Sam.

"This hasn't happened since freshman year," he hissed. "The rest of the guys weren't around. JBI wasn't there."

"Sam, I'm-"

"Sorry? I bet. Do you know how freaking embarrassing this is? Rick tossed a slushie at me. _Rick_. I'm going to kill him-"

"Sam! That isn't you," I furrowed my eyebrows.

"And what, this is you?" He lightly flicked the sleeve of Santana's jacket. "Everything is changing, Q. This is messing everything up." His voice was softer now.

"Maybe it's time," I shrugged.

"Who _are_ you?" He asked. "Seriously, because the girl I know wouldn't do any of this. Her hair would be blonde, her jacket would say Cheerios, and she'd be my girl friend Now you're some dyke who's all buddy buddy with the Black Jacks."

"I'm not that girl anymore, Sam," I said calmly.

"Yeah," he scoffed, "I noticed." I reached out to touch his shoulder, to try to soothe him in some sort of platonic way, but he shrugged away from me. "Don't. Haven't you led me on enough?" He took my silence as an answer. "Thought so." He walked away, leaving me with the few other people who were in the hallway.

"Q," I heard Santana's voice. She was walking down the hallway. Immediately, her fingers laced with mine. "I wasn't listening in, I swear. He was walking away and I felt weird- people usually avoid eye contact, but they were all staring and-"

I cut her off with a lingering kiss. "It's okay," I said against her lips.

"Are you?" She asked. "Okay, I mean."

I took a breath and looked into her eyes, which were full of concern. I smiled. "Yeah. I'm fine."

She winced. "I hate that word."

"Fine?"

"Yeah."

"I love learning more things about you," I said, almost dreamily. The bell rang, interrupting our little moment. I didn't really mind though. I knew we'd have plenty more.

"Oceanography, here we come," she said. I don't think I've ever seen her happy about going to a class. I giggled a little when she let go of my hand, and linked our arms. Yeah, this place really needed this change.

* * *

I decided that it wouldn't be the best idea to sit in the cafeteria today. Santana's friends are pretty cool with everything. All this time, I thought they were just arrogant immature people. But now, I see that they're not. That's how _I_ was acting. There's Noah, pretty much the leader of the group. Or, no, not leader, but he talks the most. Takes charge when it's necessary. There's Mike, who hardly speaks at all. His girl friend, Tina. Her hair has purple stripes in it, but I'm pretty sure those were there before mine. But then again, I've never really noticed her before. Bree, who now that I think about, might have been a Cheerio before. There's a few more people that respectfully nodded, but didn't bother introducing themselves.

"It's pretty cool. The whole out thing that you're doing," Tina said.

"Yeah, none of us thought you guys would do it," Mike added.

"Calling me a punk, boy Chang?" Santana half joked. I cuddled further into her. We're taking up the couch, while the others either stood, or sat on some broken bleachers that were tossed back here. It smells like smoke, but it's soothing in a way. Santana's scent takes over, so that makes it worth it.

"Never, Lopez," Mike gave her a smile, then Tina moved his chin and kissed him. The sight of them frenching kind of made me want to hurl, so I closed my eyes and focused on Santana.

"How do you guys ever leave this place? It's so peaceful. It's like we're not even at school," I said, my eyes still screwed shut.

"Some of us don't," Noah chuckled.

"That would be me," Zizes raised her hand, "most of my teachers are scared that if they fail me, I'll have to take their class again."

"Hey, where's Sebastian? Doesn't he usually hang out with you guys?" I asked curiously. They chuckled, so I opened my eyes. "What? What's funny?"

"Sebs doesn't go here, babe. He goes to some private school," Santana explained.

"Dick-Ton," Noah said. Santana scoffed.

"Dalton," she corrected.

"Then how do you know him?" I asked. Santana smiled and looked at Noah, who glanced nervously at Mike and Tina.

"Go on," Santana said. "Tell her."

"Do we have to?" Tina grumbled. I think Santana gave her a look, because Mike cleared his throat. He coughed and said something that I couldn't comprehend.

"What was that?" Santana asked with her teasing voice.

He coughed again.

"Didn't catch that," I said.

"We're in Glee Club! Okay? There," Tina said. I raised both eyebrows in surprise. "Sebs is in the Glee Club at his school, we met him at a hotel party for all the clubs to _bond_ or something."

"You too?" I asked Noah. He shrugged. "Oh wow," I smiled. "Why?"

"Schuster caught us smoking back here, and said that if we join, he won't come back, and no one would find out," he mumbled.

"He's that desperate?" I chuckled.

"Hey, I'm a good singer. Plus I play guitar. I'm the total package," he smirked.

"Yeah, and the skunk on your head completes the deal," Santana taunted.

"Whatever," he waved her off, "we did what we had to do."

"Uh uh, not _we_. You three," Bree said. "The rest of us do it while classes are in session."

"Come on, Bree. It's not their fault they're…" Zizes crossed her arms, "stupid." She and Bree started laughing almost hysterically.

"They're a little high," Santana told me. I nodded. That explained it.

"So why don't you join?" I asked her. She looked at me like I was insane. I was joking, but I kept my expression serious.

"Are you fucking with me?" She asked.

"No," I pressed the joke further, "I find you insanely attractive," she smirked at that, "and you could only get hotter if you sung." Okay, so that part was true. But her voice is amazing when she talks- I've never heard her sing before.

"Not going to happen," she said. I gave her a little pout. "You're shitting me," she said. "Babe."

I cracked a smile, and she rolled her eyes. "Really, I want to hear you sing someday," I said honestly.

"I don't do showtunes."

"Neither do we," Noah perked up. "I stick to rock. The girls sing what they want too- last week was Mariah Carey week."

"I don't sing at all. I just dance, and make them seem better," Mike told me.

"They mostly just look constipated- but they can sing pretty well."

"Motta can't, but she's pretty hot," Noah shrugged.

"Pig," Bree muttered.

"Oink, baby," he winked. She scoffed. It almost surprised me, how normal they are. God, every time they speak, I'm reminded of how wrong I was about them.

"I'm not joining the stupid club," Santana said sternly.

"But, you'll be in the audience at Nationals," Noah smiled knowingly. She rolled her eyes.

"I wouldn't miss it, you ass," she chuckled. "And my girl will be joining me, isn't that right?" She moved her arm a little to shake me. I laughed and nodded. If she was there, I'd be there too. "Are you hungry? Lunch is almost over."

"Not really. I kind of don't want to move," I mumbled into the crook of her neck. She turned a little until her mouth was right next to my ear.

"If you keep breathing on my neck like that, our first time will be right in front of my friends," she whispered.

"_Oh_," my voice was lower than I intended, and I felt my cheeks flush.

"Secrets aren't fun unless they're shared with everyone," Noah teased. I swallowed and looked up at him.

"I think this ones just for me," I told him. He held his hands up in mock defense, so I chuckled. I couldn't get use to this.

"Noah, how would you feel about your little club performing at the winter formal?"

"A little Rock and Roll never hurt nobody," he shrugged. "Only if San performs with us."

"No way in Hell," she nearly spat. I kissed her neck, and felt her relax.

"We'll see," I answered for her. I closed my eyes again, and carefully avoided Santana's neck. I don't want our first time to be in front of a crowd.

* * *

"Well if it isn't the leather pop pixie princess," Kitty greeted.

"What does that even mean?" I asked as I walked to the sink next to her's. I came to touch up my makeup, and completely forgot that she usually goes at around the same time. Shows how much of a routine I had.

"What are you doing, Quinn?" She asked. "Just trying to shake things up before you graduate, so I can't be at the top?"

"Kitty-"

"That was a bitch move, Quinn."

I glared at her. "I'm still head Cheerio, don't forget that."

"But for how much longer?" She asked as she closed her lip gloss, and turned to look at me. "Sue doesn't care for the new 'do. Maybe you should have thought this through, instead of letting that lesbo brainwash you."

"I make my own decisions-"

"Since when, Q?" She asked. "Seriously, tell, when have you ever made one decision yourself?"

"I'm _deciding_ not to be around you guys," I said sharply. My tone made her shoulder slump a little, but she didn't back down. Props to her. "Soon, you'll see it. Things just aren't right around here. high school shouldn't feel so toxic."

"Whatever, Quinn. Just let me know when you're over this weird leather fetish," she brushed by me.

My friends: 0

Santana's friends: 1000

How did it take me so long to see that.

* * *

During the drive home, I was on a happy buzz. I hummed along to the radio, and Santana smiled and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel.

"So, I was thinking…." she started slowly.

"Should I be worried?"

"Don't be a bitch," she chuckled.

"Sorry, go on," I smiled.

"I want to take you out," she said quickly. I held back a smile.

"But you have."

"What are you talking about?"

"Remember? That night when I did graffiti for the first time?" I teased. She rolled her eyes.

"No, seriously. Let's go out somewhere, anywhere."

"Alright. When?" I asked.

"Friday night. After Your mom and Rhys leave," she said. I nodded.

"Okay. Yes."

"Really?" Her eyes lit up.

"What, did you think I'd say no?" I laughed teasingly. The look on her face said it all. "San, I think today proved that I don't mind going public with you. I prefer it, actually."

"Still," she breathed.

"I adore you," I told her. And I meant it. "And I don't care who knows it, as long as you do, okay?"

"Okay," she smiled. "Just so you know, we're going to Christopher's."

"Is that the place with the breadsticks that are frozen and flown in from the Dominican republic?"

"That's a damn lie that some shit head from Olive Garden made up. Those Breadsticks are my heart and soul," she said defensively.

"Alright, alright," I giggled. "Breadsticks it is then." I've heard about those breadsticks, obviously. But it took me a while to figure out that the place was actually called Christopher's. I've never been there, because Sue strongly advised against it. And by strongly advised, I mean she told us that if we gained a fraction of a pound, we were off the squad. But, I'd risk a few carbs and extra laps for Santana any day.

* * *

Santana didn't ask questions when I told her I was going to Brittany's house. She knew that I always helped her with her English, and Britt helped me with math. It's how we've always been. I haven't done it lately, and I feel bad, she's still one of my best friends. I just hope she sees me the same way. If not, I hope she sees me in a better way.

She opened her front door with a mega watt smile, wearing her cheer sweats and a tank top like she usually did during our study time. "You came," she grinned.

"Here I am," I laughed softly with a shrug. She stepped aside and opened the door a little wider for me to step inside.

"My parentals took Stacey out, so it's just us and Tubbs today," she told me. I hummed. "So, does this mean we're going to talk about girls instead of boys now? Because I don't mind, we can totally talk about how awesome Angelina Jolie's cheekbones are."

I chuckled, "B, we don't have to talk about anything that makes you uncomfortable." We walked up the staircase, and followed the familiar path to her bedroom.

"It doesn't. I thought you would be before, but now that you're a lady lover, we can," she smiled.

"Wait, Britt, are you saying that you're… you're gay?"

"No, I like boys. Hot boys. And hot girls," she said as she plopped down on her bean bag. "I like hot people."

"So, you're bisexual?"

"Are you too?"

"U-um," I tentatively sat down on her bed and crossed one leg over the other, "I don't know? I mean, I," I lowered my voice a tad, but not on purpose, "I like Santana a lot. More than Sam, and Finn, and any guy I've been with really."

She rolled her eyes. "Obviously. Q, if you were having trouble figuring yourself out, you could have talked to me."

I smiled gently. "I'm just attracted to Santana. I haven't felt this way about another girl. I'm not confused."

"Still. I just wish I didn't have to find out at the same time as everyone else. You're my best friend, Q."

"And you're mine," I told her. "It won't happen again."

"Good," she stood up abruptly. "I say, we skip the homework for now, and we make some cookies."

"Britt-"

"Nope. You owe me. You're not supposed to keep secrets from your best friend," she pointed. I rolled my eyes playfully.

"Fine," I told her as I stood up. "But next time, we're working."

She did a little happy dance, and skipped towards the door. "Oh," she said as she turned to face me, "and don't worry. We can save some for your girlfriend."

My friends: 1

Santana's friends: 1000

I hope Santana likes sugar cookies.

* * *

"I'm back," I said as I hit the door with my hip to close it. I figured Mom and Maribel just parked in the garage like they usually would, but the living room was quiet. "Any body here?" I called. "I brought cookies!"

Nothing. I walked through the kitchen first, and put the container of cookies on the counter. The oven's clock read 8:10. Where is everyone? I pursed my lips and started upstairs, hoping that Santana was up there. Her room door was closed, per usual.

"San?" I knocked gently on the door. I let out a sigh of relief when her voice told me to come in. I put my hand on the door knob and pushed, "Britt and I made cookies, but I'm pretty sure they're purely sugar. She said it's her grandma reci-ci- San," I stuttered when I saw the way she was looking at me. A devious, amused smile rested on her lips. She uncrossed her legs and sauntered towards me, then tugged at my wrist until we were both sitting on her bed.

"What were you saying?" She asked.

"I-I can't concentrate when you look at me like that," I sputtered. She chuckled darkly. I can't concentrate when I can feel her eyes on me. Or when she's dressed like that- in a simple pink tank top and shorts that are way too short, but have adorable little dots on them.

"Sorry," she smiled, but she didn't look it. "They went out, by the way. To the movies."

"On a Wednesday?"

"Your mom's way of cheering Rhys up," she shrugged. "But, it was Leo's idea." She inched closer to me, and I let out a nervous breath. "Quinn." I hummed. "Look at me."

Slowly, my eyes met hers. "Yes?" I asked carefully. I didn't mean to whisper, but I couldn't find my voice. She cradled my cheek with her hand and pulled me a little closer, then pressed her lips against mine. I felt her tongue swipe my bottom lip, so I opened my mouth a little. Tonight. I can feel it. We scooted back in the bed, our movements in sync. When she hovered over me, I had no doubts.

* * *

_So that's the thing! I wrote smut for this story, finally, because I wanna stop bein a little bitch and putting it off. So yeah. After 17 chapters, 5 months, and over 40k words, Quinntana will be doing the deed. _

.

_And, as always, thank you for your kind words and suggestions. Drop a review if you felt any feels when Quinn started getting along with Santana's friends, or when Noah totally stuck up for her. If not, maybe I'll get you next time. See ya soon _


	17. Chapter 17

_I listened to songs about sex when I wrote this. I'd like to thank SOMO for practically writing an album about doing the dirty. Alright I'm done being a dork, on with the story. _

_((Let's play a game: spot the title.)) _

* * *

"Movies are at least two hours long, right?" She panted between kissed. I nodded and whimpered when I felt her lips on that familiar spot on my neck. "Good. Because I want to take this slow. And not get walked in on, as wanky as that is-"

"_Santana_," I groaned.

"Is this okay?" She asked. I nodded again.

"Yes, can you please just- just touch me, okay?"

She smirked. "Capital idea, _Princess_," she teased, throwing my old nickname at me in a way she'd never said it before.

"I-I don't know how to-"

"I do," she said as she kissed my collar bone. I tried not to laugh, I really did. But it didn't work. "What? What's funny?" She mumbled against my skin.

"That tickles," I said as I gently pushed her head to get her away from that spot.

"Well that's not what I want to hear right now," she chuckled as she bit down, drawing a moan from the back of my throat. "That's more like it." She kissed lower and lower, but over the thin cloth of my uniform. "Remind me to thank the sick bastard who designed these skirts," she mumbled. I felt her lips on my thighs, and my breathing pattern- well, it stopped all together. She gave my thighs a reassuring squeeze, and it started back up again. I looked down and met her eyes, her fingers toyed with the hem of my skirt.

"Yes," I rasped. She nodded. That was all she needed to hear. Slowly, she inched Quinn skirt up, and pulled down her spanks.

"I can leave this on if you want?"

I sat up on my elbows and looked at her with both eyebrows raised. "Santana, I mean this with all of the love in the world, but I don't care. Just do something."

She smiled nervously. "Alright," I didn't notice the tint of red in her cheeks, but surely, I'd catch it sometime in the future. She looked down at my center, and I could feel her index fingers link either side of my laced underwear. I moaned when I felt cool air, and lifted my hips to help her slide them off. She looked up at me to see my reactions, and I looked right back at her. Until I felt her finger circling on my clit. I threw my head back and groaned. I don't touch myself often, if at all. It's never felt like this. I glanced back at her and rolled my eyes when I saw her smirk.

The scoff faded when she pressed harder, and continued to make tiny circles. "S-San," it came out as a moan, but I hadn't intended it too. I looked down again when she pulled her finger away, only to find her holding it less than an inch from her face. She glanced up at me, then put her finger in her mouth. I groaned and moved forward a little. She looked at me again and licked her lips before tugging down the side zipper of my skirt, then pulling the skirt all the way down and over my ankles. She kissed my waistline tenderly, then worked her way down again. She leaned in close, I could feel her breath. She was practically teasing me, licking softly and making my back arch off of the bed. No one's ever- "Tana," I whined. I felt her tongue make little shapes, like she was tracing something- I swear to god if she was writing letters, "_Oooh_." She shouldn't stop. When she hummed, I groaned, when she laughed softly, I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Quinn," I heard her say against me. I hummed. "Quinn," she said again. I opened my eyes to a squint.

"What?" I panted.

"Eyes open," she purred. Then, she pressed the tip of her tongue to my clit and I saw stars. I tried my best to keep my eyes open and on her, but when she started sucking my my head tilted back on it's own, and my fingers buried themselves in her hair. I let out a squeak when her index finger teased my entrance, and covered my mouth with one of my hands when it dipped in easily. "Holy shit," she mumbled. She let me get used to the feeling, then went back to licking, and made a 'come hither' motion with her index finger.

"S-santana," I hissed. I nearly growled when she took her finger out, but she didn't give me time to complain. She dipped her tongue in, and there was no way I could mute the whimpers that slipped through my lips. Then I felt it. It was like my skin was tingling, like my body fell asleep and it was just waking up. But it didn't hurt. I never wanted it to end. My head started spinning, so I closed my eyes again. I felt her take her tongue out, and start lapping, and I'm in a complete state of bliss. My skin had a thin layer of sweat, and I couldn't stop panting. Then my thighs started quivering and trying to close on Santana- and then I was done. My back arched high off the bed, and I came with a call of her name. She kept licking, even as I calmed down. Then it became too much to manage, and I cupped her cheek until my hand was under her chin and gently pulled her face up to mine. We stared at eachother for a few seconds, both panting and trying to catch our breath.

"Wow," Santana spoke first.

"Uh huh," I breathed. "Do you," I looked down coyly, "should I…?"

"Um, no, I um," she blushed, and this time I caught it. "I did to."

"Without me even…"

"Yeah," she mumbled. I couldn't even express how attractive that was. I felt tired. I pulled her into a lazy kiss, and groaned when I could taste myself on her. It was..weird. But not a bad weird. Just different. "Let's take a little nap," she said, her lips still hovering over mine. It was like she read my mind. I laid all the way down, and she followed as she pulled the covers over our legs. I watched as she shimmied out of her pants, and pulled her phone out of the pocket. "We have an hour until they get home," she said lowly.

"Can we.. um…"

"After a breather," she nodded. I smiled as she pressed the home button on her iPhone. "Siri, wake me up in 20 so I can have more awesome sex with my girlfriend."

"OK_, I sat an alarm for 8:39PM,"_ her phone said back to her. She smiled cheekily, before wrapping her arm around me to tug me closer. I hummed contently when she started to play with my hair, and let my eyes close. I'm so happy that Santana was my first time.

* * *

"Wake up," Santana whispered gently. I groaned, and closed my eyes a little tighter. She chuckled, "come on, we have like 10 minutes before our mom's get home- okay, gross. That makes it sound like we're the daughters of a lesbian couple. That's fucking incest-"

"Santana!" I yelled raspily. I opened my eyes and sat up, then tossed the pillow at her.

"You only wake up when I talk about us being sisters? Wanky," she sung.

"Creep," I mumbled as I layed back down and scratched my head. I was exhausted. I had sex. For the first time. And second. And third. I think I could use a little beauty sleep. She crawled back on the bed, and looked sort of like a panther approaching her prey.

"You look like a pink haired lion," she purred before pecking my lips. "Or a baby cub."

"Thank you?" I grinned.

"Now," she rested her forehead against mine, "get your ass out of my bed and get some pants on. My mom already gave me the talk, I don't want to go through that ever again," she pulled away and got out of bed. I was almost distracted by the way she looked in only underwear and her tank top.

"Wait, what?"

"Oh, forgot to tell you," she turned her back to me and walked to her dresser. "Remember when she caught you in your bra and my leather jacket?"

"Um, yes," I scrunched my eyebrows.

"She supports me, but she doesn't think it's a good idea for us to get our mack on. At least not while you live here."

"And when were you planning on telling me this?"

She shrugged. "After we got our mack on?"

"Santana!" My eyes widened and she laughed.

"Q, what was I supposed to say? Wait, sorry, can't put my hands up your skirt, my mommy said I'm not allowed?" She smiled cheekily. "Your moms trying to figure out how to get you guys a place anyway, lucky she's got a trust fund as big as-

"Your ego?"

"Wasn't what I was going to say, but since you look so damn adorable, we'll do with that," she turned again, and opened a drawer.

"What are you doing?"

"I kind of ruined my underwear," she mumbled. Before I knew it, she'd slipped her's off and was putting on a fresh pair. "Could you open that window? My ma's probably going to check on me, and it totally smells like sex in here."

I rolled my eyes. Why do I find her crudeness arousing? "How'd you learn how to.. you know?"

"Oh," she shut that drawer and leaned over to pick up the shorts that she'd tossed away. "I did some research."

"Porn?" I asked, one eyebrow arched.

"No," she scoffed, "I just.. did some research. Why, was it not up to par?" She teased.

"Eh," I shrugged.

"Oh you ass," she practically leaped onto the bed, I giggled and tried to move back before she could get to me, but she was faster. She straddles my hips and started tickling my sides. "Admit it, I'm the best you've had," she laughed.

"Y-you're my only," I giggled. She smiled triumphantly and stopped her attack.

"First, only, and last," she grinned. I sat up and put my hands on her back to keep us close.

"I l-," I stopped myself. It's a little too soon for the 'L' word. I don't want to scare her or anything. Plus, it seems pretty superficial to ask after sex. "I adore you," I said instead.

She sighed happily. "And I admire you," her voice was rasped, and beautiful, and perfect.

After a few beats of silence, I giggled quietly. "So, we're getting married tomorrow, yeah?"

She pushed my shoulders down to hover over me again. "Taking a flight to Vegas at the crack of dawn," she said dramatically. She was about to kiss me, but we both heard the front door close, then feet stomp up the stairs.

"Shit," I remembered that I wasn't wearing any pants. Or under wear. And I was still wearing my Cheerios top.

"Don't panic," she said calmly. "You can wear my clothes tonight. You wear most of my shit anyway." She rolled off of my once again, then quickly retrieved some clothes from her dresser. I caught the grey v-neck and floral pajama shorts that she tossed me. After I finished changing, which she watched me do, we heard a few knocks on the door. She scanned the room to make sure it was all clear, then opened the door.

"Hi," Rhys smiled up at her.

"We're back," Leo said cheekily.

"I see," Santana clicked her tongue. "How was the movie, and what's that behind your back Leonardo?"

Her brother ducked his head sheepishly, and showed her the closed Tupperware. I stifled my laughter. "Rhys said that these are Quinn's. Can we eat them?"

Santana looked at me, so I shrugged. "Have at it," I said.

"Uh, not so fast," Santana said, an almost sinister smile on her lips. "Give," she held out her hand. Reluctantly, Leo complied. She took out two cookies, then gave it back. "Have fun," she said before kicking the door shut. She held one out for me as she sat on her bed, then crossed her legs. She held her own up, as if you toast. "To us. And sex."

"To us," I giggled. "And to marriage in the morning."

She laughed, and we tapped the pastries together. I waited for her to bite into it first, just to gage her reaction. Her eyes widened as she looked at me. "Jesus Quinn, I'm chewing on sugar. Like straight sugar- did you guys use any actual ingredients?"

"I tried to warn you," I chuckled, "but you gave me your bedroom eyes."

"I don't regret a thing," she smiled before putting the cookie down. "But if I eat that, all of the workouts I've ever done will be thrown away. And I know you only want me for my body," she teased. I scoffed.

"Your body, your voice, your brain- even if you're an idiot sometimes-"

"Oh how fucking charming you are," she said. I stuck my tongue out at her before smiling.

"You didn't let me finish. I want your everything," I said coyly. "Now lock your door. I'd like to cuddle without any interruptions."

She nodded, and did so. "Tell anyone that we spoon, and I'll end you, Fabray."

"But then how will I return the favors? I owe you three," I said innocently. Her face reddened again, so I broke my facade and chuckled quietly. "Just get over here and hold me. I'm cold."

"Well lucky for you, baby lion, I'm warm," she said cheesily. She layed down next to me, but didn't touch me. She just layed there and looked at me. I groaned and rolled over, then wrapped myself around her.

"Gimme warmth," I mumbled into the crook of her neck. She laughed without voicing it, and wrapped her arm around me.

"Of course, Quinn," she said lowly. "Night."

"Night," I yawned. I fell asleep smiling. I can honestly say that Santana is the best thing that's ever happened. I saved her from sending herself off to some camp that would try to rewire her brain, and try to mold her into what she's not. But she saved me from who I thought I was, and showed me who I'm supposed to be.

Now, we just have to show everyone else how unbelievably _right_ this is, and hope that they accept it as much I do.

* * *

_Ok so I'm sorry if it sucked. If you're like an expert at writing things like this, and you have any tips, you gotta let me know dude_

_any way, sorry for the cheesy mention of the title if you noticed, but I had to do it for the feels man. Alright, seeya soon._

_yikes, almost forgot to thank you for the reviews. thank you ;3 when you guys tell me you felt the feels it makes me very happy, so lemme know c:_

_ Noooow i'll see you soon. im done talking i promise._

_(one last thing, does anybody here watch PLL?)_


	18. Chapter 18

_You guys rock. All of your reviews made me smile- I braced myself for negative ones and they didn't come, so that was a very pleasant surpise. I'll talk later, on with the story. _

* * *

"I adore you," I smiled shyly.

"I admire you," she replied easily.

"I'm going to puke," Bree said in a faux loving tone.

"I'm about to hurl," Zizes added.

"Screw you guys," Santana flipped them off without looking.

"Seriously, you guys are way too lovey dovey," Tina grumbled. Santana looked at her.

"Finally come up for air, asian persuasion?" She quipped.

"Whatever. We make out. We don't _coo_ at each other."

"You tell her, beautiful," Mike smiled proudly.

"Aw, thanks baby," Tina turned to kiss him. Santana put her index finger in front of her mouth and pretended to gag, so I bumped her playfully.

"Since when did this become the couples resort?" Noah asked. He held up some rolled brown paper. "First?" He asked Santana. I saw her swallow, but shake her head.

"I'm good."

"Whoa!" Mike hollered.

"No, no way. You're fucking with me," Noah smiled cheekily.

"Does anyone have a camera? A phone? This needs documentation," Mike joked. Santana scoffed.

"Fuck you guys," she said. "I uh," she glanced at me, "I don't need it." I smiled lovingly and pressed a kiss to her jaw. It's Thursday. Other than completely avoiding my friends, bar Brittany, ignoring the blatant stares, and having to save JBI from getting his ass kicked by Santana, this week has been golden. Not to mention sex with Santana. I'm pretty sure she's the only person I want to do that with, for the rest of forever.

Noah and Zizes started to make kissing noises at us, so I took them by surprise and said, "Piss off," with a laugh. They hollered louder, saying something about welcoming to the dark side.

Exchanging 'I adore you' and 'I admire you' when we part is another thing. It's mostly whispered, because San wants to keep her "reputation" in tact. We say them like 'I love yous'. But it's too soon. I mean, we just had sex two days ago. Just went public four days ago. But technically, I've been living with her for about a month. So we're a little backwards. I wouldn't change it. But, if I could save my favorite high heels from the fire, I would. So, I'd change a tiny bit of it.

* * *

After school, we decided to surprise Rhys and Leo. An impromptu trip to the Zoo sounded pleasant- to the boys anyway. I don't like the stench of flamingos, and Santana doesn't like to be around people. But, since our move is looking very likely, we're giving them as much time together as possible.

"I want to see the birds," Rhys said. "Their wings are awesome! I wish I could fly."

"Not all birds can fly," Leo said to cheer him up, "penguins are awesome too. They swim really good."

"That's true," Rhys tugged kicked the back of my seat gently to get my attention. "Can we see the penguins?"

Santana let out an exasperated sigh. "If the car up front wants to stop being a jackass anytime soon, maybe we'll actually get to the zoo. Use your blinker next time, asshole!" She called out.

"San," I said tentatively.

"Sorry," she mumbled. Just when I thought things were going to get calm, someone behind us honk. Santana promptly rolled down her window and stuck her middle finger out. "Get bent!" She shouted before rolling it back up. She glanced at me and frowned. "Sorry," she said under her breath. Leo and Rhys started to laugh, and eventually, Santana cracked a smile. "I have rage," she shrugged.

"Big time," Leo chuckled.

"Maybe someone should've taught them how to drive-"

"Or maybe, I should drive next time," I smiled teasingly.

Santana was about to say something cheeky, I could see it on her face. But someone completely cut her off, so she slammed her hand on the horn. At least, she meant to. She's kind of small, so only a teeny little beep came out. "La puta que te parió!"

"What'd she say?" Rhys whispered to Leo, just loud enough for us to hear.

"Beats me," the little boy shrugged in return. "San, what's that mean?"

"The bitch that birthed-" Santana replied without missing a beat, but I stopped her.

"Something that should not be repeated," I said sternly.

"I swear on everything, none of these pelotudos in Lima know how to fucking drive," she mumbled.

"I see it! I see the sign!" Rhys said excitedly.

"Just so you guys know, once we've hit the 30 minute mark, we're going home. I'm not going to spend all night looking for a parking spot."

"She's just messing," I said as I turned to face the boys, "we'll stay as long as it takes."

"Whatever," she shrugged. "But we're seeing the lions first," she said with a wink. My face flushed as I sat back in my seat. "Whats up Quinnie?" She practically _purred_. "Cat's got your tongue?"

"I'm good," I said lowly. She smirked, and I wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug little look off of her face.

* * *

"Okay, that's it, first one to spot a churro stand gets 20 dollars," Santana said, clearly exasperated. After looking at a few animals, she got a little agitated. That was when I learned something new about her. If she couldn't smoke, and she was having one of her moods, she needed a churro. Or someone would get hurt. And since both of us know that someone wouldn't be me or the boys, we had to find a churro for the safety of others.

"Come on, look harder, we'll split it so we can both get the stuffed monkeys," Leo said to Rhys. Santana unlinked our hands and wrapped her arm around my waist.

"Babe," she said.

"Hm?"

"It smells like shit. We couldn't have taken them to the park or something?"

I laughed. "Come on, grouch, let's find you a-"

"Churros!" Rhys shouted as he pointed his finger. And just like that, Santana's hand was in mine again, her other in Leo's, who was holding Rhys's. Apparently, Leo ran off in the Zoo a few years ago, and it was traumatizing. The kindergarten system soothes Santana's nerves, so we're all linked up. But that doesn't help the fact that she's practically sprinting to the stand, and dragging us along.

"Three churros," Santana said, slightly out of breath.

"Four," I said, knowing that the three were all for her.

"I want one too!" Leo added.

"Me too!"

Santana grumbled something under her breath, before plastering on a fake smile. "Five churros," she said. She let go of our hands to dig into her pockets for her wallet. After she put the money down on the counter, the man handed us all our churros. "Heaven sent," she mumbled after smelling them. I chuckled and rolled my eyes

"Let's find a bench," I suggested. We did so, but Rhys and Leo insisted on sitting on the floor in front of us. Santana and I sat, one of her legs draped across mine. I ate mine slowly, but all of her churros were gone. "I'm glad we came," I smiled.

"Me too," she grinned.

"Pardon," someone said. We looked at the stranger, a random older lady. "You make a lovely family."

I giggled lightly and glanced at the boys, then at Santana. "Thanks," she said genuinely.

"Young love. When did you two meet?"

"High school," Santana continued.

"And you've been together ever since? You can tye the knot now, you know," the lady winked. "My son is gay. He's still in high school. Just came out. I figured with the bow ties and hair gel and what not, it was obvious."

"Oh?" That sounds familiar…

"Brought a boyfriend home and everything," she chuckled. "Anyway, I wish you and your family the best."

"Have a nice day," Santana said, she sounded just as shocked as I was. When the lady walked away, we looked at each other questioningly.

"She thought they were our kids," I said, more to myself than to Santana.

"I'm too young to be a mom," Santana said, her eyebrows furrowed. "You're totally carrying our kids by the way."

"What? No way-"

"Well I'm not doing it, I trust you more," she said honestly. Wait. We're talking about kids? I mean sure, I've thought about kids before. Two story house, picket fence and all, but I haven't thought of that with a girl. Now I have a girl.

"She thought you were mom?" Leo asked, his nose all scrunched. "But moms, like, 40."

"My point exactly," Santana nodded.

Rhys shrugged. "People think Quinn's my mom all the time."

"I, for one, have never met a mother with pink hair," I defended myself, but I wasn't really sure why I felt like I should.

"And I've never met lesbian mothers, but here we are," Santana jested.

"San?" Leo asked tentatively.

"Yes?"

"Can we have that 20 dollars now?"

* * *

The drive back was pretty quiet. The boys were asleep in the back, the radio was on low. I held Santana's right hand.

"I fucking love this song," she said as she turned up the radio. "Classic."

_They tried to make me go to rehab but I said, 'No, no, no.'_

_Yes, I've been black but when I come back you'll know, know, know_

_I ain't got the time and if my daddy thinks I'm fine_

_He's tried to make me go to rehab but I won't go, go, go_

I listened as she sung along, and quickly decided that she has the best voice I've ever heard. When the song was through, she turned the radio back down. Santana hates the word 'fine.' She loves churros. She has terrible road rage. She can sing. I keep on learning new things about her that make me want her even more.

"I think Glee club would be lucky to have you," I told her. She scoffed.

"Damn right they would. Their pet Berry use to bug me about it all the time. Somehow she got into a party and heard me sing when I was drunk," she said. "It just sounds pretty lame."

"Well, I think I'm going to tell Berry that they can sing at the Formal," I said nonchalantly. I saw her eye me for a second before shrugging. "Are you going?"

"I figured I'd just go to watch you get crowned, threaten to kill Sam when they say the King and Queen have to dance, then take you home. Get or mack on," she shrugged. I bumped her arm playfully. "But that's only if you're going."

"I dunno, I kind of want to hear Noah sing."

"We can stop by their club tomorrow. What time do you have practice?"

"Sue's on maternity leave. You haven't noticed?"

"That Dino's having baby?"

"Mhm," I nodded.

"With who's vagina?" She chuckled. "We'll stop by Glee club tomorrow. But don't get any ideas."

"Like I want to be in that club? I haven't changed that much," I assured her.

* * *

I cleared my throat. "My name is Quinn Fabray, and I'll be singing So Far Away by Carole King."

_...GLEE!_

* * *

Fucking Noah Puckerman. Santana and I didn't walk in with the intention of auditioning. We should have known when we walked in before us and told us to count to five before going in. They clapped when we walked in, hand in hand.

"What'd you do?" Santana glared at her friend.

He shrugged. "Nothing much."

"Santana, can I just say, I'm so glad that you finally came around-" Rachel started, but Santana held her hand up.

"I'm not joining," she deadpanned. "How do you talk so quickly?"

"But- but Noah said-"

"Noah _lied_," Santana scoffed. I actually felt kind of bad. They all looked dejected, even Mr. Schuester.

"Actually," I started, and refrained from rolling my eyes when they all lit up, "I was thinking about-"

"Don't think," Mr. Schuester said, "just, go for it." He smiled so hopefully, that this time I just went ahead and rolled my eyes. No adult should be so adamant about some stupid club thing. I looked at Santana, who was eyeing me like I was crazy. I guess I seemed it. Reluctantly, she walked to the front and center seat. I think I know the girl who sits there, something Jones. She's the one who got the tater tots back at Mckinley!

"Um, that's not how things roll in here. We're equal," Mercedes said as she crossed her arms.

"I need to be up front, Aretha," Santana glanced at me and smiled softly. "my girl's performing." After hesitating for a few seconds, Mercedes got up.

"Only because I think it's pretty cool that you guys are out. But that's all," Mercedes pointed. Santana gave her a smug grin before plopping down in the chair and crossing her legs under her like a child.

I smiled and cleared my throat. "So how does the whole music thing work?"

"We usually just start singing and the band gets it," Kurt told me. I nodded, but was still somewhat confused.

And that's how I landed myself here. After the song and applause, Santana kissed me, but told them that she'd stay but wouldn't audition.

"Alright!" Will clapped. "Now that we've got that settled, let's move on with today's lesson-"

"Actually, Mr. Schuester, if you don't mind-" Kurt said with one hand raised in the air. "I have something to say. It's kind of important."

"Of course, Kurt," Mr. Schuester nodded. He stepped back again, and welcome Kurt up front.

"As you all know, I've been struggling with a lot of things. With my dad's health, Finn moving into my house-"

"Wait, since when does Finn live with you?" I asked. He'd never said anything about it before…

"Yeah," Kurt took a breath. "And it's been hard. He didn't really like the idea. But his mom has been nothing but supportive and caring…" He paused, but no one said anything. "Anyway… I've been inspired by a certain love story," he glanced at Santana and I, "and there's something I have to get off of my chest. And I think I'm ready."

"What's up, Kurt?" Mr. Schuester asked when the boy was quiet again.

"I'm- I have a… I'm gay," Kurt said. It was quiet.

"Wait, so you weren't out yet?" Santana asked bluntly. "Wow. Talk about a sparkly gay elephant in the room..."

"I'm sorry?" Kurt asked.

"No offence dude, but it's kind of obvious. No one cares more about fashion than you do," someone I didn't recognize said. Pretty sure he was kicked from the football team last year? Ryder!

"Yeah, but it's not a bad thing," Noah said.

Kurt scoffed. "Try telling my boyfriend that," he mumbled.

"Wait wait wait, hold the _hell_ up," Mercedes stood from her seat. "You have a boyfriend? And you didn't tell me?"

"Or me?" Rachel perked up.

"He didn't want to tell anybody-"

"Best friends don't count!" Rachel pouted.

"He's still not ready," Kurt sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Who is it?" I asked curiously.

"That's the thing," he said as he slumped his shoulders, "I hope was hoping maybe if I did it first, he'd follow. I don't wanna push him out the closet."

"Wish someone said that to this one," Santana nudged me. I entwined our fingers and smiled cheekily.

"Well, if we can help in any way, let us know," I said to Kurt.

"Thank you, Quinn. It means a lot," he nodded. Something in his eyes told me that he'd be needing that help.

The rest of Glee club went smoothly, and when I asked if they'd still like to sing at the dance, it seemed like they were even happier that I'd showed up. Noah still didn't want to sing unless Santana did, but I'm not too worried about that. We left when it hit four o'clock, and I told Santana that I called of practice. At least until things settle a little bit, I don't think it's a good idea was me to be with the squad. When we were walked out of the school, they were waiting for us. The football team stood right outside of the school doors.

"What do you want, Sam?" I asked. I eyed the cups that were in their hands. This has never happened to me before. Ever.

"Really Quinn? First the BJ's, and now the Glee Club?" He asked. His words mocked me, but his eyes were full on concern.

"I've decided to surround myself with people who actually care about me," I said smoothly.

"Care about you? You think they _care_ about you?"

"Yes."

"Right. But as soon as she's done with you, don't come running back," he scoffed. Noah stepped in front of me before Santana said anything, and held his hand up, silently telling her that he'd handle it. But, he didn't get a word out before he was drenched in red slushie. "Thought you could use some school spirit," Sam smiled sarcastically. Then, Santana was drenched. Then Mercedes. And Artie. Everyone but Kurt and I. Blaine was the only one still holding a slushie.

"Do it." Kurt said.

"What are you waiting for?" Sam asked him.

"Yeah, Blaine. What are you waiting for?" Kurt asked. "Go ahead."

Blaine's eyes said he was sorry. I know they did. He eyed me for a second, probably contemplating rather or not he should just throw it at me. But then, he'd have to explain why he didn't just toss it at the boy standing right in front of him. When he tossed it, Kurt didn't flinch. He wiped it from his eyes, and ignored the sting.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "For clearing things up."

"Come on guys, I can get us in the bathroom," I said as I cut my eyes at Sam. This has gone on too long. I know what I have to do- even if I lose the last of my friends. I glanced at the crowd, but didn't find Brittany. They must have known that she'd convince them not to do it. Reluctantly, the Glee Club followed me back into the school. Santana was silent by my side. When we stepped into the ladies room, they immediately started to clean themselves.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," I said to Santana. She shrugged.

"Yeah, is that why you're the only one dry?" Mercedes asked me.

"I didn't plan this-"

"Why should we believe you?" Artie asked. "You randomly join Glee club, and the very same day, we all get slushied."

"This hasn't happened in two weeks-"

"Who do you think told Sam to stop throwing slushies at people every five minutes?" Santana spat at them. "Quinn had nothing to do with this."

"You're just saying that because you're with her," Mercedes scoffed. "I don't trust you. Never have, never will."

"Guys, fighting isn't going to change anything," Kurt mumbled.

"And what was that with you and hair gel?" Santana asked him as she tied her hair up in a bun. "The whole star crossed lovers deal is kind of mine thing."

"He's not my lover," Kurt grumbled. "He's not who I thought he was."

"No, he's exactly who you thought he was," Mercedes said. "A jock. Their all the same."

"He didn't want to," I said. I couldn't have been the only one who saw the hurt in Blaine's eyes.

"No one forced him to-"

"You don't know what it's like. I thought I wanted to be popular. I didn't know it would mean having to be with the person you don't love, having to talk to people you don't even like, and feelings like a god damn toy. Or a ghost, just watching your life-"

"Oh _poor you_," Mercedes faux cried. "No one forced you to be popular."

"Like you wouldn't if you had the chance," Santana sneered. "Look, this wasn't Quinn's fault. This is trouty mouth, clearly not knowing when he's lost."

"So he lost, but we're drenched in slushie?" Artie asked. "That sounds _so_ fair."

"We'll deal with Sam," Noah nodded towards Mike.

"And I'll talk to Blaine," I said to Kurt. "I don't know if he's he boy that you were talking about- but correct me if I'm wrong, there's something between you guys. Something that he's not ready to… come out about?"

Kurt didn't speak. He just nodded. "I know this wasn't your fault," he said quietly.

"Thank you," I smiled.

"They'll come around sometime. I know they won't admit it now, but they're happy you joined. Besides, we can't go to Nationals without you," he gave me a thin smile, and I returned it. At least he's happy to have me here.

"Babe, can we get out of here?" Santana asked me. I looked at her, and saw she wrapped her arms around herself. Her shirt was a little wet, not completely soaked through, but with this weather, she'd be shivering for sure. I took off her jacket and handed it to her. She'd need it more than I did.

"Sure," I said. "I'd hold your hand, but you're still a little sticky."

"Come here, you ass," she playfully rolled her eyes and grabbed my hand. I tossed Noah the keys. I trust him.

"Lock up when you guys are done?" I asked when he caught them effortlessly.

"Gotcha," he nodded. Santana tugged me through the door.

"If wheezy said one more thing about you, I would've ended her," she told me when we were alone.

"I like her. She says what she thinks," I shrugged.

"You only like her because of the tatter tot thing," she said knowingly.

"Maybe," I smiled coyly. "Guess what day it is?"

"Hm?" She asked as she swung our arms back and forth.

"Our date," I said, though I knew she knew.

"Oh really?"

"Mhm," I hummed.

"I knew that," she chuckled. "How could I forget?"

* * *

"Do I have to go?" Rhys asked me. He's never met our grandfather. Like me, he probably assumed that we didn't have one.

"I'm sorry, Rhys," I frowned. His arms were wrapped around my neck, squeezing just tight enough for me to know that he didn't want to let go.

"I don't wanna. And I don't wanna move out. I wanna stay here with Maribel, and Leo, and Santana, and you," he pouted. He let go and stomped his foot. "I'm not going."

"Come on, Rhys-"

"No. I don't want to go with Momma. She can go by herself, and we can stay here-"

"That's not how it works Rhys," I said gently. He crossed his arms and pursed his lips. "Don't be that way," I frowned. "Please? Just go with Momma, and be nice to Grandpa. For me?"

He thought it over for a few seconds, then slowly lowered his arms to his sides. "Alright. But my smile won't be real. I won't be happy."

"I won't be happy with you gone either. But it's only for a few days. And when you get back, Santana and I will take you and Leo wherever you want to go."

"Anywhere?"

"Anywhere." I smiled. Finally, he grinned.

"Fine. But no real smiles."

"No real smiles," I chuckled.

"Come on, Rhys. Your grandfather sent a car," I heard Mom's voice as she came down the stairs.

"Don't leave without a proper goodbye," Maribel said in a playful stern voice. She held her arms open, so he trotted to her for a hug. Then, he hugged Santana.

"Are you sure I have to go?" He whispered to me.

"Two and a half days," I kissed his forehead.

"Let's go," mom said. The two of them walked out, dragging their little bit of luggage with them.

"Wait!" Leo shouted. "Hold on!" He ran to Rhys. "You can take this with you," he said as he handed Rhys something, I craned my neck to see what it was. A little action figure, black with a yellow cape. "Hourman. That way, you know, you don't get bored or anything."

"Thanks," Rhys smiled.

"No problem, bro." Leo patted his shoulder. "Come back, okay?"

"Trust me, I will."

"Even if your abuelo's house is bigger than ours?"

Rhys scoffed. "Even if he has a whole kingdom."

"Rhys, it's time to go," Mom said sternly. Rhys and Leo hugged quickly, and said goodbye one last time.

Maribel shut the door behind them, and exhaled a sigh. "Well, looks like it's us tonight."

"Actually, Quinn and I are going out-"

"What? Not fair," Leo interrupted.

"You can come too," I told him. Honestly, I felt bad for him. He's used to Rhys being here now.

"Quinn," Santana crossed her arms.

"Why is everyone so pouty today?" I chuckled.

"You three go. Leave me alone, with this big house. All by myself… esta bien," she frowned, and instantly I knew who Santana inherited her mischievous ways from.

"Like mother like daughter," I said softly.

"Leo go grab your shoes. Looks like we're all going," Santana rolled her eyes.

"I'll drive," Maribel winked at her eldest, and I chuckled.

"Denny's?" Leo shouted as he ran up the stairs.

"Whatever!" Santana called after him. Then, she looked at me. "You couldn't have said no?"

I shrugged. "I didn't want to." She smiled at me, so I knew she was at least a little happy with us all going out. Besides, the closer I get to Maribel, the better. I can't just surprise her with the whole '_I'm in love with your daughter_' Thing.

* * *

"Funny face pancakes," Leo said immediately, without looking at his menu.

"You read my mind," Santana smiled.

"And I assume you want the same?" Maribel asked me. I nodded, so she shook her head and chuckled. "We really are going to miss you," she admitted. "Your whole family."

"Quinn's going to visit all the time, you'll be sick of her," Santana nudged me. The two of us were sitting across from Leo and Maribel.

"If I'm not mistaken, just a few short weeks ago, you couldn't stand her. What changed?" Maribel questioned.

"I did," I admitted.

"We both did. But mostly her," she said. She flicked my hair a little.

"Well, I don't mean to sound selfish, but I hope you stick around a bit longer. After all, Santana's birthday is coming so soon-"

"Mom-"

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked her.

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "I don't celebrate my birthday."

"Santana doesn't like them. I only remember one time where we threw a party for her," Leo stated. "It was forever ago."

"Why not?"

"Later," she mumbled.

"I was thinking, maybe this year could be the year that changes?" Maribel asked.

"Mom, Quinn doesn't have time to plan a stupid party. She has the Winter Formal to worry about her campaign-"

"You come first," I said easily.

"Wanky," she smirked, just loud enough for me to hear. I felt my cheeks and ears go pink, but ignored it.

"We can have something small. Noah and Bree and the rest of them and come over, I can order a pizza, Britt and I could make a cake-"

"Out of pure sugar? I'll pass," she snapped. "I don't want a birthday party. I don't want anyone even _saying_ birthday, okay?"

"Fine," I muttered. She glared at me, and I remembered. "_Okay_," I corrected sarcastically.

"Whatever."

Silence took over the table. No one spoke until a blue haired waitress came to the table.

"Hi, my names Dani, and I'll be your server this evening. Can I start you off with any drinks?" I noticed her eyes linger on Santana. Now is _really_ not the time.

"Water," Santana mumbled. If Maribel wasn't sitting right there, I'd do something. Something small that could cheer her up.

"Hot chocolate," Leo grinned. "Please."

"I'll go with the ice tea," Maribel said.

"Just water," I said, "thank you."

"I'll be right back with that," Dani winked. When Santana smiled at that, I put my hand over her's. She looked at me with her eyebrows scrunched, but turned her hand so that her palm would be facing up. Our fingers linked, and for a second, I forgot that we were with Maribel. I couldn't help it. With her being upset, and some girl with blue hair- okay, I admit, she probably just has a flirty personality, but still. I just started with Santana. No one else is allowed to wink at her.

"Is anyone going to explain?" Maribel asked as she flipped through her menu. Santana clicked her tongue, I cleared my throat.

"Quinn and Santana kiss sometimes," Leo said bluntly.

"Leonardo!" Santana hissed.

"What? It's not a big deal," he shrugged innocently. "Besides, you guys didn't look like you wanted to say it."

"Well not like that!"

"Santana, you know what I told you-" Maribel started

"I know mom," Santana sighed. "But… it's Quinn," she said, like that was all the reason she needed. "Besides, you said it yourself, she's moving soon."

"Santanita, you know I support you. And I've been watching you change over the past few weeks, and I have a feeling it has something to do with this one," she pointed at me, then lowered her hand. "I'm proud of you."

"Proud?" Santana asked.

"Ever since what happened with your father…" she trailed off at the end. I knew that was a sore subject- Santana refused to talk about her dad. Always. "I was afraid that you'd taken what he's said to you to heart."

"I did," Santana said immediately. "But I also took Quinn. She helped me. She still does," she gave my hand a squeeze. "Without her, I don't think I'd know who I am."

"I suppose we should go over some rules-"

"Not necessary," Santana shook her head.

"You're both to be sleeping in your own rooms," Maribel went on. "No PDA in the house- I don't want your mother on my case. That woman," she chuckled.

"I know," I gave her a small smile.

"Quinn, I'm glad it's you," she said genuinely. "But if you hurt my daughter-"

"I won't," I assured her. "I wouldn't ever."

"_Mom_," Santana whined.

"What did you expect?" Maribel chuckled. Then, Dani was back. She gently placed the cups in front of us, then pressed the tray she carried them on to her hip.

"Are we ready?" She asked.

"We are," Maribel nodded. "I'll have the Chicken Avocado Sandwich."

"The funny face," Leo said.

"I'll have the funny face pancakes as well," I smiled as kindly as I could.

"And you, gorgeous?" She asked Santana. My cheeks burned again.

"You should totally get the funny face too, baby," I said, before I could think about it.

"I think I'll do just that. And my pancake is going to be totally badass," she jested.

"Santana," Maribel warned.

"What?"

"Coming up," Dani's smile hardly faltered, but I noticed it all the same. For good measure, I pressed a chaste kiss on Santana's cheek.

"We all know that Leo's is going to beat ours," I giggled. Dani gave us a thin smile, then turned on her heal.

Santana pretended to cough, "Jealous."

"What? No way," I scoffed. I looked up at Leo and Maribel, who gave me almost identical faces of disbelief. "I wasn't," I insisted.

"It's okay," Santana kissed my knuckle. "I like pink hair more than blue."

* * *

We got home a little before 9. I'm really going to miss this place. I'm going to miss knowing that I'm only down the hall from Santana. Or rolling over and waking up with her right there, commenting on the way my pink hair resembles a Lion's mane. Santana carried a very tired Leo up the stairs, and Maribel said goodnight to me. I went to my room and slipped out of my day clothes, and into a nightgown.

"Hey," I heard Santana's voice in the doorway a few minutes later. I saw that she'd changed also.

"Come on," I smiled, gesturing for her to join me in bed. She yawned, and dragged her feet until she was close enough, then laid down. Instinctively, I pulled her closer.

"How far away does your grandfather live?" She asked after a few minutes of silence. I shrugged, and she felt it. "You're going to come over after school, right?"

"Of course," I mumbled.

"I don't think your mom likes me very much," she whispered.

"I don't think my mom likes _me_ very much," I scoffed. Then I yawned. "Don't let it get to you."

I felt her shift a little, and opened my eyes. She couldn't have fallen asleep that quickly. "She reminds me of my dad."

"Is that a bad thing?" I asked carefully.

"My dad left days before my 14th birthday. I haven't seen him since." I stayed quiet. "I bet he has another family now. The good one. The kind that he's always wanted."

"Santana-"

"And he has a daughter, probably. One that he just _knows_ won't turn out like me."

"He's missing out. You're amazing, Santana."

"Yeah, well." She didn't continue. When she was quiet for a while, I closed my eyes.

"Goodnight, Santana," I whispered.

"Night. Love you," she slurred. I pursed my lips. Had she just?

I stayed quiet, and listened to the rhythmic sound of her breathing. Santana is… Santana. The first person that not only held my hand, but gave me the urge to take hers all the time. She drives me crazy, but in the best way. I'm falling. I've been falling since I found her making that awful phone call after church. Since we kissed. I love her. I love her more than I thought I could love another person. I let my eyes close, the thought made me content. I love her, and she feels the same way. My door started to creak open, but I pretended to be asleep. I know Maribel was just checking to make sure I was in my own bed- it must be past 11.

"It isn't a good idea," she said. I didn't open my eyes. I respect her. More than I respect my own mother, but that doesn't mean I want Santana to go back to her room. "She's still very unhappy with you." She paused. "She doesn't even celebrate her birthday anymore. Refuses to even touch her gifts." Another pause. "I don't give a damn if you're sorry, Mateo, you hurt her. Neither she, or I, will forgive you anytime soon. If ever." The door closed, but I heard one last muffled thing, "I'll ask, but I doubt she'll want to see you."

I panicked. Silently, of course. But Santana's father. The one who left because Santana thought she _might_ have been gay is going to contact her. What will he do if he knows that she really is? But Santana… she loves him. She wanted to change because of him. But she loves me. She wouldn't- she wouldn't leave me because he's back.

* * *

"_Why? Why did he do that to me? Why do I have to ask for forgiveness, why isn't he sitting here? I just want it to be how it used to be. I just want my dad back."_

"_And what is getting in the way of that?" Pastor asked. I rolled my eyes, as if her homosexuality wasn't obviously the answer. _

"_A girl, obviously. She lives with me now, and it's torture. Why can't I just be normal?" Her voice shook. _

"_There are many things in the Bible that are considered sins, young lady. I live by the book, but even I can admit that it's outdated. I'd be lying if I told you that I didn't eat pork for dinner last tuesday. But, if you truly believe this, I know what can help you."_

_Santana paused. I held my breath. "What would that be?" She asked finally. I heard a drawer open, then close. I took a step behind the wall when Pastor Davis's door started to open. He left a few papers on the floor in front of Santana's._

"_Consider," he said, "calling the number on these pamphlets." _

* * *

"Santana," I whispered. "Tana, _please_ wake up."

"Gimme 5 minutes," she mumbled.

"Santana," I tried again. Slowly, I watched her eyes open.

"What's wrong?" She asked sleepily.

"I love you," I said quickly. She smiled, and her eyes closed. "Santana," I shook her a little.

"Hmm, 'm I dreaming?"

I giggled softly. "No. I love you, and I need you to know that."

"I love you too, Quinn," she told me with a sigh. "Now shut up. I'm trying to get my z's on."

I smiled, but it fell almost immediately. Santana's dad is coming back. I can't stop that. I just hope that she doesn't push me away when it happens.

* * *

_Okay, so I just wanna say that I'm really glad that you guys asked for angst. I kinda wanted to hold off, this chapter was going to be split in half that that you'd only see Quinn joining Glee. In case you couldn't tell, the lady who assumed they were slightly older women with children was Blaine's mom. I threw in a little jealous Quinn, but that's not the last you'll see of her, trust me. _

_I know that said their "love you's" pretty fast- but this chapter was meant to be split in half. That wasn't going to happen until chapter 19, but I didn't wanna wait. _

_If you have any questions or suggestions, let me know. 100 favorites? Are you kidding? 100 people liked this story? Gees. I must be doing /something/ right. _

_Also, I asked about pretty little liars because I still haven't seen the finale, and I was wondering what you thought. No spoilers! _

_One last thing, be sure to check out **The Rose Bar (angeljenz)**, it's pretty captivating. I'm reading it right now. _

_If you liked this chapter, I'd love to know what you liked about it. Makes me happy to know that people actually enjoy what I write. If you didn't, I'll try to make it up for you in the next update._

_Sooooo, with that said, that you guys, and seeya soon, _

_(I'm planing on naming the chapters, so if you have any suggestions for them, let me know please) _


	19. Chapter 19

_Sorry for the wait, gross writers block. _

_On with the story. _

* * *

"Hey," Santana looks at me the next morning, and automatically she knows something's up. "You okay, baby lion?" Her voice was teasing, as it usually was, but I couldn't shake the thoughts that I'd had last night. The ones that led me into saying I love you. The ones that refused to let me get any real sleep.

"I'm good," I said, careful not to say _fine_.

"You sure?" She could see right through me. She always has. "You can tell me, you know." She looked up at me, her legs crossed as she sat on the still unmade bed. "What's bothering you?"

"I'm just-" I know Maribel wants to be the one to tell her. I wasn't even supposed to know. "I'm upset with Rhys not being here, that's all."

Her lips curved into a loving smile, and she held out one hand to pull me closer. "I know," she purred. "He'll be back soon."

I sighed. I wanted to cry because she didn't realize what she said. She didn't know it, but the double entendre took a toll on me. "I know," I groaned.

"Whoa, I thought you wanted him to come back?"

"No, I do. You do. I- I think I need to be alone," _Before I say something stupid. _She looked at me with sleep scrunched eyebrows, and I wanted to laugh at how concerned and tired she looked. Her hair was almost all the way out of the ponytail she'd put it in, and it looked like she was putting some work into not closing her eyes again.

"_Or_ you can just talk to me. Obviously you're keeping something from me."

"I love you," I said randomly. I couldn't help it. I was just looking at her and thinking, this person means so much to me. I'd do anything for her.

Her gaze softened, and the smile was back. "I love you too. Now fess up."

"I think maybe your mom should tell you-"

"You've been talking to my mom but not me?" She looked genuinely hurt, so I scooted closer and kissed her lips until the frown was gone.

"It isn't like that," I assured her. "I just… heard something that I wasn't meant to hear."

"And it's worrying you?"

"A little," I admitted.

"Then I'll talk to my mom, and-"

"No."

"No?"

"Let her come to you," I nodded. "Yeah, just let her tell you that your- whatever is going to happen. Okay?"

"You're kind of creeping me out," she said bluntly.

"Maybe we should head downstairs." I just want to get this over with. Rip it off, like a bandaid. She loves me. Her father's presence won't change that. "And Santana?"

"Yeah?"

"Your mom totally caught you in here last night."

* * *

Santana went downstairs before I did, because hey, we could at least try to play it off like we hadn't broken one of Maribel's rules. Technically, _she_ did, but hey, who's asking. When I joined them, I saw that Santana was sitting on a counter, reading the back of a cereal box.

"Where are they?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Dunno. Her cars not in the garage."

"It's only 10," I mused.

"Well, I don't cook, so," she shook the box, "bon appetit."

I chuckled and took the box, which was Captain Crunch. "Lovely," I teased. I watched her tongue slip through her lips, and giggled at her childish antics. While I turned in search of a bowl, she hopped off of the counter and hooked her phone up to something.

_There is no combination of words I could put on the back of a postcard_

_No song that I could sing, but I can try for your heart_

_Our dreams, and they are made out of real things_

_Like a, shoebox of photographs_

_With sepia-toned loving_

_Love is the answer,_

_At least for most of the questions in my heart_

_Like why are we here? And where do we go?_

I listened to her sing along while I poured our cereal, and couldn't think of a better way to spend a Saturday morning. I gave her a chaste kiss on the lips before looking through the fridge, the frowned.

"No milk," I said dejectedly.

"We don't need it," she shrugged. She patted the space next to her, so I hopped up on the counter. We ate the cereal dry, and I listened to her hum the lyrics, occasionally, she would say a line out loud and look right at me. She had a way of putting butterflies in my stomach. Leo came into the kitchen holding grocery bags.

"You couldn't have waited?" He scrunched his eyebrows.

"What?"

"We were gonna make breakfast," he pouted.

"Chill out, in a few hours, we'll make lunch." Santana waved him off.

"No," Maribel's voice called. Soon, she came into sight. "Leonardo and I will be making breakfast. Maybe you should've been patient."

"_Mom-_"

"And don't think I don't know about last night," the older woman crossed her arms, and arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

"Sorry," Santana deadpanned. Anybody could see that she didn't mean it. Why do something if you're only going to be sorry in the end?

"Uh huh," Maribel clicked her tongue in thought, and slowly, her smile faded. "I'm taking you out. We have something to discuss- Quinn, would you mind watching over Leonardo?"

I swallowed. "Of course not."

"Thank you," she gave me a thin smile. She turned to Santana, who was eyeing her. Trying to figure out what she had to say. "So, we'll leave in an hour."

"Sounds good," Santana said.

"Good," Maribel said with a sigh. "Good."

Santana and I finished up our cereal in silence, and avoided being in the way of Maribel and Leo while they put away a few groceries. We both went upstairs. I sat on her bed while she rummaged through her closet and dresser.

"Why do I have a bad feeling about today?" She asked. I pursed my lips. "Is the news that bad?"

"Depends?"

"On what?"

"On you," I said honestly. This could be great news for her. Just not for me. Someones going to get hurt, that's inevitable. I'd rather it be me instead of her.

"That makes me feel better," she mumbled. "Could you give me a hint? Something to soften the blow?"

I thought about teasing her about how not-baddass that sounded, but decided against that. "Today might change the way you feel about...things."

"Like us?"

I shrugged. "Depends," I said again.

"Nothing will change that," she smiled charmingly. I grinned, and she threw several outfits on her bed. "Hey babe?"

"Hm?" I have to admit, I swooned.

"This doesn't have anything to do with what we talked about last night, does it?"

"Wha-"

"Because I'm serious about the birthday thing. Just… my gift could be you, if you know what I mean," she wiggled her eyebrows, and I chuckled nervously.

"Sure, San," I said. I wasn't going to answer the question.

* * *

When Santana and Maribel left, I let Leo pick a movie for us to watch. I got the popcorn ready, while he put the disk in. We sat in silence for while, until he broke it.

"I like you and San together," he mused out loud.

"Why?" I asked curiously. We were both quiet, and still facing the Tv. He'd chosen _Ferris Bueller's Day Off_.

"She doesn't smell funny anymore."

I choked back laughter, "Like smoke?"

"Yeah. She said it's cause you told her that you guys couldn't get your mack-"

"I didn't say that," I said. "Well, not with those particular words."

"Still," he shrugged. "Plus, she's nicer. To mom, I mean."

"What do you mean?"

"She used to not talk that much. She'd eat in her room, and go out all the time. Now she's nice and she asks about mom's day, and she stays here, 'cause you're here."

"I'm glad," I decided. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to respond to that. I'm glad that we have Leo's approval though- I'm pretty sure he's Santana's favorite person.

"Why do you think mom wanted to talk to her alone?"

I scrunched up my eyebrows and looked at him. His eyes, strikingly similar to Santana's, were staring right back at me. "Maybe she just wanted to spend time with her."

"I'm not stupid. I know when somethings up. And I know you know what it is."

"I don't," I lied.

He gave me a small smile. "You do."

"Leonardo-"

"Quinn," he mimicked me.

"You'll just have to wait," I rolled my eyes playfully.

"I don't like surprises."

I shrugged. "Hey, want to give Rhys a call?" The sooner I changed the subject, the better.

"Sure!"

"Grab your laptop, we'll see if he's online. He's probably bored out of his mind playing Minecraft," I mused. I didn't have to tell him twice. He ran up the stairs, and came back soon after, with his green Macbook in hand. He not-so-carefully tossed it on the couch, then sat up on his knees and opened it.

"He is!" He said excitedly.

"Well what are you waiting for?" I chuckled. He started the skype call, and waited for Rhys to pick up.

"Hi guys!" Rhys greeted. He didn't look all that happy.

"Hey! What's wrong?" Leo beat me to it.

"My momma says that grandpa wants me to get a haircut. He says it's like a little girl's," Rhys pouted. "She wants to take me today." She would. After I asked her to just let him have that one thing- she wouldn't let him do dance, or gymnastics, or anything _remotely_ feminine. All she had to do was let him grow his hair.

"I'll talk to her about it," I said immediately. I looked at him with a reassuring smile. I'd try my best. His blue eyes were full of hope.

"I like my hair," he said. I liked it to. It was just a little past his shoulders now, but he had it in a ponytail, per usual.

"I'll tell you what," I learned a little closer to the screen. "Are you alone?" I asked, just in case. He nodded. "If momma cuts your hair, when you get back, we'll dye it. Any color that you want."

"Really?"

"Really," I grinned. His eyes lit up.

"Thanks Quinnie!"

Rhys told us that he could only talk for a little while. He was supposed to be getting ready for brunch. When we had to hang up, Leo was smiling cheekily. "What?" I questioned.

"Think you can convince my mom to let me get a mohawk?" he asked. "I really want my hair to be like Noah's. It's badass."

"Leo!" I held back a smile- he's only 10.

"What? Santana lets me say it," he shrugged.

"I don't think your mom would appreciate it," I shook my head, and tried my best to hold back a smile. Santana would be the type to let her brother speak like that- at least when it was just the two of them.

"She lets me say ass, and hell, and damn-"

"I get it," I stopped him. "Rhys doesn't.. does he?"

"No," he scoffed, "I wouldn't let Rhys swear. He's my little brother."

I almost remarked on the fact that _he_ was Santana little brother, but chose to let it go. "I'll ask Maribel if it's okay."

"She might actually say yes to you," he nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer. About a half our of silence and paying attention to the movie, we heard the front door slam. Then it opened again. I assumed the second time, it was closed quietly. Santana stormed passed us without a word, and went straight for the stairs. Maribel greeted us, but it was hardly audible. She went towards the kitchen. "I'll go calm my mom down. She gets weird and quiet when she's upset."

"I'll go see what's up with Santana," I said. We parted ways, but something told me that we were sort of a team. That's odd. The only other kid that I was close to, was Rhys. I went up the stairs, and checked my rom first. She wasn't in there, which probably meant she didn't want to talk. Gently, I knocked on her door.

"Fuck off," came the immediate response.

"It's Quinn," I tried.

"Fuck. Off."

"Santana, please-"

"Not now, Quinn," she said harshly. I stared at the door for a few seconds, then decided that I'd give her a while to calm down. I went back down the stairs, and saw that Leo was sitting on the couch too. Alone.

"Didn't go well, huh?"

"Nope," I sighed.

"Same here. Mom's drinking."

"Santana's… Santana."

He nodded, he understood exactly what I meant. "Now will you tell me what happened? Mom won't. Santana probably won't."

"It really isn't my place, Leo. I'm not supposed to know-"

"Neither am I," he pointed. I smiled. This kid, I swear.

"You're not going to give it up, are you?"

"No," he smiled cheekily.

"How about.. I teach you how to do a back walkover, and you drop the questions."

He stared at me for a little, a slight squint on his eyes. Then, he cracked a smile. "Deal."

"Alright. Let's watch the rest, I think this is the part where his sister protects him from the principle." He eyed me oddly, but I shrugged. "Used to watch this all the time."

We watched the rest of the movie together, and pretty soon, an empty popcorn bowl sat between us. Then, it was on the floor, and his head rested on my shoulder. As the credits rolled, I found myself tired also, and Leo was exhausted, so I stayed. I wasn't sure how long I slept, but it must have been a while, because Maribel was waking us up for dinner.

It was just us three at the table. I was a little irritated from the nap, and Leo looked like he was ready to get right back into bed. We didn't speak much. We didn't ask how each other's days went. We didn't ask Santana to join us. When it was over, Leo, in a woken and somewhat excited state, asked if Maribel would need help doing the dishes. Before she answered, I smiled.

"We can do it," I said to Maribel. The lines under her eyes told me that she was exhausted, so did the thankful smile that graced her lips.

"You're heaven sent," she said as she rose from the table. "You have permission to go into Santana's room tonight- no curfew. No funny business," she smiled wearily.

I nodded. "Thank you," I mouthed. She hummed in response, then left the dining room. Leo carried his plate and glass to the kitchen, while I grabbed mine and Maribel's. Neither of us washed or dried, but he hopped up on the counter while I put them in the washer.

"Are you going to talk to Santana?" He asked curiously.

"Yes," I assured him.

"Can I come too?"

"You're a nosy kid, you know that?" I jested. He shrugged.

"I don't _like_ surprises."

"Why does that not shock me?" I deadpanned. "I'll talk to her alone tonight, and let you know how that goes. Deal?"

"Yeah, that sounds good. Wanna have cookies tonight?"

"You look like you're about to pass out," I chuckled. "How about we try tomorrow?"

"Okay," he nodded. When we were finished in the kitchen, we made our way up the stairs. Before turning on his heel to head to his room, he hugged me quickly. "I'm glad you're here," he said. The hug ended almost as quickly as it started, but it still counted. Leo wasn't a very touchy person, come to think of it, I don't think I've seen him hug Maribel.

"Me too," I smiled. He gave me a cheeky grin, then started to his room. As I walked to Santana's room, I thought about how this was the first Saturday that I've ever slept through. Before, if I hadn't had plans, I'd study or workout or do something that made me feel better about myself. Today, I just lounged in my pajamas with Leo, watching a movie with fat free popcorn. Today was a good day. Now, I just had to end it that way. I knocked lightly on Santana's door, but got no response. I knocked again. "Baby?"

The door was pulled open, and the sight of her was enough to make my eyes sting with tears. There were bags under her slightly puffy eyes, that were nearly bloodshot from obvious crying. She was only wearing the same flannel that she'd left the house in, but no pants. She turned around, but left the door open. I followed, and shut it quietly. After a few seconds of silence, she crossed her arms and looked at me. There wasn't a glare. There was no emotion at all. "So you knew."

I nodded. "I did."

* * *

_So, this chapter is on the short side, and is mainly to get the ball rolling. I will try to update quicker, but the wait wont be as long as this one was c:_

_Also... guys I loved writing the Quinn and Leo bit. And I wanna bring Rhys home ASAP bc he's my lil baby. _

_One last thing, I just realized that I'm updating on 9/11. My respect to those who lost their lives, to the family and friends, and all affected. I'm including racism and stereotypes that have come from this act of terrorism. Alright. I hope you guys all have a good night/or day, and I'll see you soon. _


	20. Chapter 20

**_Hey. I suppose I have some explaining to do. But that can wait. If you don't feel like rereading, here's a little summary. If the summary doesn't do it justice, then please go back and skim through a few chapters :)_**

_So, Quinn and San are now basically a thing. Their little brothers are accused of being a thing at school, but they're probably not. Santana's abusive father left 4 years ago when she was 14, and now there's a rumor that he'll pay her a birthday visit. The cheerios and blackjacks are all messed up because of Q and S, and people at Mckinley high are all dying their hair wild colors because of Quinn. Also, Quinn knew before Santana that San's father would come visit. _

"But you weren't supposed to."

"I wasn't."

"But you know what this means?"

I shook my head. "That's what I'm so nervous about," I admitted. "I love you. I just want you to be happy."

"Don't do that," she sighed as she sat on her bed. "I haven't seen the man in years. I don't know what he's like anymore. I only know who I thought he was."

"People change," I tried.

"Tell me about it." I know she was talking about me when she said that, but it didn't ease my worries. "He doesn't know about you."

"What does that mean for us?"

She sighed, a look of utter distress graced her delicate features. "It means I'm not choosing between you and my father."

"Santana-"

"You don't get it, Quinn. If he hears you call me _baby_, or _babe_, or anything, he's out again. And I can't take that- I can't take that loss a second time."

"What are you saying, Santana?"

"I'm saying… I think we should sleep in our own beds tonight. I thought I had enough time to think… but it's too much," her voice shook when she spoke, and she looked like she despised the words that were coming out of her mouth. She didn't sound like herself- the confident, adorably arrogant Santana. She sounded small. Like a little kid. Like the younger teenager that her father abandoned- and I'll be damned if I let him do that to her again.

* * *

On Sunday morning, I wasn't sure what to do. I rolled out of bed, and dragged my feet to the dresser. The girl in front of me looked nothing like me. I smiled at my reflection, and ran my fingers through my unruly pink hair. I didn't think that Maribel would be up for church, and I knew for a fact that Santana wouldn't go. Or, at least, I hoped she wouldn't.

A few minutes later, I was walking towards Santana's room, not sure what to expect. I knocked first, but no one answered. I did it again, and wondered if she'd already gone downstairs. Slowly, I opened the door. She was sleeping, curled up over the covers, almost hugging her knees.

"San," I said softly. "Santana," I tried again as I slowly entered her room.

"Quinn?"

"Mhm," I hummed. She didn't open her eyes.

"Come lay with me," she mumbled. I did as she said. When I touched her arm, I was surprised with how cold it was.

"San, honey, let's get under the covers, okay?"

She mumbled something, but wiggled none the less so that we could work our way under. Once we succeeded, I took her in my arms again. "Quinn?"

"Yes?"

"I think we should talk about that thing neither of us wanted to talk about."

I looked at her, but found that her eyes were still closed. "Okay," I breathed.

"But not right now. Right now I just want us to do this," she squeezed me a little tighter, then loosed her grip again.

"Okay," I nodded gently. We have this for now. But I knew we couldn't avoid talking about our father's completely. I'm not sure how long we laid there, but I never fell asleep. She did. As we layed there, I felt myself get angry again. We just started. I just got her. What if he shows up and says he'll stay if I go. What if he thinks I corrupted his daughter? What if he ruins everything?

"You're thinking too loudly," she whispered.

"Sorry," I sighed. I tilted my head down a little, and met her questioning brown eyes.

"Are you scared?" She asked, her voice still hushed.

"Out of my mind."

"Me too."

* * *

I woke up to an empty bed, not knowing what day it was. Or year. Slowly, I sat up and saw that Santana was pacing the floor.

"My birthday is coming up," she said, once she saw that I was awake.

"I know," I yawned.

"I haven't celebrated my birthday since I was 14."

"It's been a while."

"I haven't seen my dad since I was 14," she continued. I didn't know what to say, so I just looked at her. "I'm turning 18. It's been 4 years. Leo hardly remembers him, and if he misses him, he doesn't show it…"

"Santana-"

"The last thing he called me was a disgrace. Before that, it was doll face. Always doll face. Or monkey. Or something- something endearing. It's been so long," she trailed off.

"Are we having that talk?" I whispered. She stopped pacing and looked down at her feet. A small nod of her head gave me the answer. She sat on the edge of her bed, so I joined her.

"You go," she said quietly.

"Russell was an alcoholic. He was the catholic type, but the kind that would rather stay home and watch football on Sundays. And any other day- there was always a game on. I don't know why he drunk so much. But we- my mother and I -always tried to hard to make him happy. She'd cook," I smiled wryly, "and I'd bring him his beer. He had these fits of rage, they always came out of nowhere. He didn't care who he hurt then. He just had to hurt somebody."

"Quinn," she said sympathetically. I waved her off. The past is the past.

"Eventually, it came back around. I'm just glad he wasn't driving drunk. He didn't bring anybody down with him. Alcohol poisoning must have been a pretty ironic way to go. The thing he loved the most killed him."

"Everything we like seems to be at least little harmful," Santana nodded.

I smiled at her, and nodded. "Anyway, I think he only brought one person down with him. Mom. She's been different. It' been a while, but I remember singing with her in the kitchen, dancing around, tugging on her long skirts. I think she used to let her curls loose. She used to smile without seeming condescending. She used to be so.. genuine."

"I can't see it," she said softly. I sighed. I wish I could know that part of mom again.

"That's about it. He's been gone since Rhys was 3, so it's been 5 years."

"Do you miss him?"

I shrugged. "Not really. He wasn't.. I don't think, how he was supposed to be. He wasn't warm."

"Mine was the opposite," she said, more to herself than to me. "I was his angel. I couldn't do anything wrong in his eyes. The one thing I could do wrong, I did it. So he left."

"And that's all?" I pushed.

"No. He used to. -He got a little physical. He didn't rape me or anything- but I had to go to church on Tuesdays and Thursdays, as well as Sundays. Originally, it was only Sundays. When that didn't work, he'd hit me- never in front of my mom. I always tried to hide it from her. Like, if she didn't know, then somehow, it never happened."

"Santana," I frowned.

"I just wanted to make him proud. I didn't _want_ to be miserable," she groaned. "So I brought boys home. Good ones too. But I didn't let them kiss me, and we would hardly hold hands. So they kept breaking up with me, and I'd become someone else's challenge. Eventually, my dad caught on. He couldn't take it. He left."

"Do you want him back?"

"I did," she admitted. "I do. More than anything."

"But…?"

"But." She said as a final word. The explanation was obvious. But, us.

* * *

She's irritable. She shrugged away from my touch, and told me that she was hungry. Like yesterday, we slept through the morning. I followed her down the stairs, and sat on the counter while she searched through the cabinets.

"Don't feel like cooking," she mumbled to herself. I heard his yawn before I saw him. Leo dragged his feet into the kitchen, and leaned against the counter next to me.

"Can you get me the Apple Jacks?" He asked. "I can pour it myself."

Santana grunted something, then found the box and gave it to him. Minutes later, and she was still opening cabinets and slamming them shut. Leo walked carefully to the table so that none of his cereal would still; he poured a little too much. I tried to help, but he insisted. Right before he placed it down, he stumbled and it all spilled.

"Seriously?" Santana snapped.

"It w-was an accident-" Leo tried, but she cut him off.

"Just wipe that shit up, and try not to do it again?"

"Okay," he whispered. He wasn't used to Santana yelling at him. Or looking at him like that.

"Santana," I said gently. "maybe we should just go out and get something to eat."

"Why, there's food here." She gave me a glare with scrunched eyebrows.

"Because you're being an ass, so we should leave before you hurt your little brother's feelings," I whispered. She pursed her lips, and nodded once. We walked to our own rooms to get ready. When I was done, she was already downstairs. Wordlessly, we walked to my car.

"What if he brings a kid?" She blurted. "Or a new wife?"

I shrugged. "I don't know, San."

"What if he's replaced me, and he just wants to rub it in my face?" She went on as if I hadn't said anything. I shrugged. "What if he's lying. He wants me to get my hopes up, just so he can disappear again. Or maybe he's broke, and he wants my trust fund money from my grandpa, who hated his _guts_. Or what if-"

"Santana," I sighed. She stopped. She looked at me with glossy eyes, and hope. It broke my heart to see her this small. "We don't know. But what I do know, is that I will be here for you. Whatever you decide to do- I'm here. You're not alone."

She gave me a thin smile, and slowly laced our fingers. "I know," she assured me. "That's about the only thing I'm sure of," she said with a small, dry laugh.

"Santana, I'm serious. No matter what you want to do when you see your dad, I'll support it. Okay?"

She eyed me oddly, her eyebrows scrunched up and her nose wrinkled a little. "I know," she nodded.

"And I won't hold anything against you," I added.

"I know."

"And I love you. More than I've ever loved someone. So, so much, San."

"I know," it was quiet. An almost silent defeat. She slumped down in her seat and stared out the window. I stopped waiting for her to say it back, and started to pull out of the driveway. I didn't say it to hear it in return. I said it so she'd know.

Then, she spoke. "I don't want to see him. Ever."

"Santana-"

"No. I'm happy Quinn. Genuinely happy. Mom and I are closer than ever. Rhys and Leo are like brothers. Your mom treats me decently. And I have you. I can't- I can't mess that up. Not for him."

"You won't lose any of that, any of us-"

"I've made up my mind. He's been gone for 4 years. He can stay gone. Quinn, I'm finally okay." She gave me a small smile, and looked at me like she loved me. "I don't need him," she shrugged.

"Are you sure?" I asked carefully. She breathed out a laugh, and shook her head.

"No. Yes. I don't know. I just like the way things are."

"If you change your mind, it's okay," I said. She nodded. "What are we hungry for?"

_**hey guys! So, it's been way too long. relationship and job and school, and way too many excuses. but, i never stopped writing. I'm going to come up with a schedule, drop a day in the reviews that you'd recommend for weekly updating! Anyways, happy reading. I hppe to hear from you guys, I loved rereading old reviews. Talk to you soon!**_

_**-kp **_


	21. Chapter 21

Hey guys! Long time no talk.

Well, I'm now a graduate of high school, and I have very important news to share

GIMME WARMTH IS DONE.

Not done as in I'm done uploading, but done as in I am no longer just going with the flow- it is now a finished novel that I'd love to share with all of you newcomers, and those who've been here since the beginning.

But, is anyone still listening? Any readers still out there? Let me know if there's anyone still interested, and I'll be happy to start releasing chapters!

Thank you for reading!

-kp (Kai)


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